Battle of the 5 Fandoms
by Kisu Pure
Summary: Discontinued.
1. On Purgatory and the Afterlife: Act I

**1.18.08 Update:** Heavily edited chapter 2. If you plan to read chapter 3 instead of skipping directly to 4, please ignore all mentions of Mika and Rebecca. Sorry... it's just that at the time of my writing those chapters originally, all of my friends demanded cameos in this story, but as I've discovered, it's just stupid so I'm taking them out.

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**B a t t l e . o f . t h e . F i v e . F a n d o m s**

By The L Factor

_Rated PG-13 for violence, strong language, mild sexual humor, and epic battle sequences._

The fandoms included in this story are: LotR, Transformers, Star Wars, X-men, and Heaven.

_This story might be hard to keep up with. And for that, I'm sorry. It's slow in many places, fast-paced in many others, and when something exciting isn't going on, Lauren's usually trying to figure out how everything works because this AU I've created is so goddamn complicated I don't understand it sometimes. You should also note that this is a self-insertion fic, featuring people I know IRL, talking about things that have actually happened, and telling inside jokes you may not know. I've portrayed canon characters as close as I can to Tolkien's ideal given the circumstances (my own biases included). I've read 9 of Tolkien's books, so I apologize if those of you who have only seen the movies don't understand half of what I'm talking about concerning Middle-earth._

_And yes, the title of this story is in reference to a chapter from The Hobbit._

_THIS IS **NOT** A MARY-SUE._

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**ACT I**

Chapter One:_  
**"Of Purgatory and the Afterlife"**_

Frankly, the room was far too stark for her liking. It reminded her very much of a chic, upscale salon of sorts. What with the white walls, pale hardwood floors, transparent acrylic designer chairs and matching end tables, and the lines of people, old and young, smartly dressed in stylish white clothes, she almost would have thought she was someplace in New York City had the room an entrance or an exit. The entire space was illuminated by unseen lighting.

Not knowing exactly how she came to be in such a place, Lauren sat down in an empty seat and appraised her person. She was dressed in a white camisole top and white UFO pants, with white flip flops and nail polish adorning her footsies. The clothes weren't hers (so far as she could remember), but the rest was accounted for. She looked up and examined the faces around her. People of all walks of life occupied maybe fifty seats around her; some jiggling their legs anxiously, some filling out papers, and some were fast asleep. Her eyes passed over one face, though, and she had a double-take.

The girl leapt to her feet and started across the room, and finally halting in front of a reclining girl. She was napping with mouth open and nose snoring, clothed in a white shirt and long skirt. Her foot was kicked.

"Well, well, look who's dead."

"Hmph... huh... wha..." she opened her eyes and whined and moaned a little more before realizing who was standing in front of her. "Lauren!?"

"I'm here to tell you that you've been sent to the wrong place. If you follow me, I'll show you the stairs..."

Nicole stared up at her, tired, surprised, and quite flabbergasted. "What?"

Lauren laughed. "I'm just kidding, dumbass. Stand up so I can give you a hug."

The girl dumbly rose from the chair and attacked her friend.

"So hey! I didn't know you were dead too. How long have you been here?"

"Oh, I donno. A few hours?"

"Ew, that sucks."

"Joe Frank," a voice from the far end of the room called. He was an older man with gray hair of average height and weight, standing behind a white reception desk. A distinct glow emanated from his head. Lauren had been vaguely aware of his calling names up until that point, but this time she paused to watch. A man near the desk, in his early fifties perhaps, stood up and approached. A clipboard was handed to him, a few words were exchanged, and Joe Frank sat back down to fill out a hefty stack of papers.

"That's the one thing I don't get," Lauren said, turning back to her friend. "I would think that a huge plus for going to heaven is no more paperwork?"

Nicole shrugged. "How do you know we're in heaven, though?"

"Well, the place certainly isn't on fire, and I can't smell any brimstone."

"Touche."

"Nicole Mitchell and Lauren Baker?"

Nicole heaved a heavy sigh and strode on over to the angelic receptionist. "Got lucky," he said to them. "Guess the big guy upstairs wanted you two to go together for some reason." The angel handed them each a clipboard and plenty of forms. "Just bring them back up when you're done."

They thanked him, and just as Lauren was about to walk away, she wanted to ask him a question. "Hey, mister, uh..." she glanced at his name tag. "Roger. How come you're working here when you could be enjoying an eternity in paradise?"

Roger, the average angel, sucked on his teeth. "I'm working off a few sins before I can get to heaven. If you want to go there, your record has to be immaculate, really. They don't care much about the other places, mostly 'cause they're hard work in some way or another."

"Ah. Well, thanks." The girl returned to her seat next to Nicole, idly pondering the man's words. She settled down with the clipboard in her lap, organizing the stack of forms she'd be spending the next twenty minutes or so filling out:

_**Basic and Medical Information**_

_Name:_

_Birth date:_

_Birth place:_

_Gender:_

_Height:_

_Weight:_

_Hair color:_

_Eye color:_

_Sexual preference:_

_Dominant hand:_

_Shoe size:_

_Blood type:_

_Allergies (medicinal/food/bites/stings/environmental):_

_Please list medications you were taking prior to death:_

_Was your death caused by:_

_- Illness?_

_- An accident?_

_- Foul play?_

_- Other (please specify):_

_Do you have asthma?_

_Do you have diabetes?_

_Are you disabled in any way?_

_Do you suffer from any bone, muscle, or joint problems?_

_Do you have a history of seizures or heart failure?_

_**Theological Information**_

_Religious views prior to death:_

_If Christian, please specify denomination:_

_Do your religious views require you to frown upon certain minority groups?_

_If you are an atheist, then that sucks. Would you prefer to:_

_- Have another chance at an afterlife despite your beliefs?_

_- Chose oblivion? (Please note that oblivion will remove your soul from existence and you will henceforth cease to be. You will not get another chance at life in any form.)_

_**Warnings and Terms and Conditions**_

_This trip may require vigorous activity, extended climbing and hiking, and other physically and mentally demanding exertion in isolated areas without medical facilities, medical providers, or means of contacting rescue or medical personnel. The bodies you will be issued upon arrival in your chosen universe may require additional trauma or damage in order to result in body death. In this case, body death may be a far more grueling, painful, horrifying, and traumatic event than previously experienced. _

_In the event that body death should occur due to decapitation, complete dismemberment, full-body burns, or other serious mutilations, your soul will return to Purgatory for a re-issuing of another body. You may return to your previous universe or chose another without consequence. _

_While living in your chosen universe, you must abide by all laws set for the deceased. Failure to do so will result in punishment seen fit by the people of that universe._

_Purgatory cannot be held liable for the goings-on of other afterlives, universes, and worlds. If you are displeased with your decision, then it's your own damn fault. Kill yourself again and chose something better._

_If you understand these terms and conditions, please sign here:_

_(Your information will not be sold any any third-party organization.)_

Through the course of filling out the forms, Lauren's disposition had gone from mildly put-off, to entertained, to downright worried. She sat and stared at the paper, with all of it's fancy lingo, having second thoughts about going **anywhere**, really. What was all of this about choosing universes? And a new body? And torturous deaths?

"What the hell is this?" she said to Nicole in a low voice. She felt as though being overheard by the receptionist would get her in trouble.

"Yeah, uhm... yeah. I don't know." Lauren's blond friend pursued her lips and knitted her brows as she stared at the papers on her lap. "Do we have a choice? We can't stay here in this waiting room for eternity because we're too scared to return the clipboards."

Lauren stared down at her own forms, chewing on her lip. She couldn't quite remember what it was like to die, but if she wasn't euthanized, then it was most likely unpleasant. Which meant, if she were to die again for some reason that was completely beyond her, then it would most likely be even more unpleasant. And Lauren wasn't one for unpleasant things of a grueling, painful, horrifying, and traumatic nature.

With a great sigh, Lauren stood up, and Nicole followed suit. "Let's just see what all of this is about before we draw conclusions first, though."

Roger disinterestedly took the completed forms from them. He glanced over them to make sure all the necessary fields were filled in, stuck them into a hole in his desk (a chute?) before waving them past him. "Thank you, ladies. The exit is behind me."

The two girls hesitantly approached said exit. It was an average door with an office building-quality handle, and it too was painted white. What greeted her on the other side was... suspiciously similar to an arcade. Well, arcade was probably not what it was, but she couldn't think up a word for it.

It was a pretty large room. The walls were painted a dark, rich pthalo blue, with... weird, trendy designs or murals on them. It reminded her somewhat of Disneyland, what with their creative paint jobs in waiting lines and eateries.

"Uhm..." Lauren noised, still looking about her. She and Nicole took a few steps forward, subconsciously afraid that they were perhaps blocking the door.

"Yeah, so... where are we?"

Lauren blinked and looked around some more. Took a step forward here, a step forward there. "I honestly couldn't tell you."

"I'm sure that guy could."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren saw her friend's pale, freckled arm shoot up and point at something. That something was in fact what appeared to be a giant info desk/coffee bar, somehow sponsored by Starbucks.

"I really don't want to know how they got a marketing team up here," Lauren stated flatly before walking up to the counter. Nicole just burst out in laughter.

"Hey, yeah, uhm, hi there, Steve," the brown-haired girl leaned over the counter as she addressed the undead hipster manning the bar. The guy, who was probably either a zillion years old or freshly dead and working off a list of sins, turned his nonchalant attention towards Lauren, tilting his chin up in acknowledgment.

"'Sup?"

"My friend and I here were kind of wondering what... exactly... this place... is?"

Steve didn't even take his hands out of the pockets of his gray skinny jeans when he answered. "This is the Waypoint... you know, where you get pointed the way you wanna go or something."

"Ooooooh, so this is where we get to choose where we go? Something about universes and stuff?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Uhm, the directories are over there, so you know where you're going."

Nicole broke in. "What about our new bodies or something? When do we get those?"

"Oh, those are issued en route. All you have to do is get to your door."

"All right man, thanks."

"No problem."

The two girls walked away from the bar and in the direction of the directories so that they might be directed to their designated destination. Lauren found herself standing in front of a computer terminal, similar to the kinds they have in airports. Sitting down, Lauren saw that the screen was rather plain: there was a search bar, and beneath that were lists of what appeared to be kinds of media. You could search by book, movie, play, TV show... or you could search by genre, like medieval fantasy, modern fantasy, sci-fi, modern, etc. Lauren sat staring at the screen for a little while before speaking.

Her question was simple: "Where d'you wanna go?"

Lauren personally had thought very little about it in the past 18 years of her existence. She'd hoped, like many other people, that she would have the chance to live out a fairly large portion of her life before needing to think about death at all. But now it was sprung upon her in a confusing flurry of information, shoving a new life down her throat before she had time to comprehend the abrupt end of her previous one. There were many things she would have loved to do on the mortal plane, but the most she was allowed to experience was a short time in a New York art school. Perhaps she could use this system to her advantage... she could go and do everything she ever wanted to do without the weight of an expiration date stamped on her head. So the real question was... what to accomplish first? She, of course, always wanted to be a famous artist. That was her first dream. It was the most realistic too, out of all her far-fetched goals in life, and also perhaps the most boring.

A secret part of her always wanted to join the army and be a fighter pilot too, even though she was never one for free-falls and roller coasters. Just the idea of being able to go and fly and shoot stuff, and be an all-round badass was the major appeal to her.

There was always firefighting, too. That always seemed like a cool idea for some reason, and it reminded her very much of that one DragonForce song that she liked a lot. That thought got her humming it.

And there was another rather obscure profession that she fantasized about taking up, and that was being a foley artist. Quite an odd thing to aspire to when she really thought about it, but Lauren loved sounds and making sounds and listening to sounds. So it seemed like a pretty cool job.

But where would she be able to do these things? As she began to arbitrarily click through the lists, the girl found herself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of individual universes.

"Battlestar Galactica?" Nicole's voice over her shoulder brought her back to the present. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a really good show on the Sci-fi channel."

"You wanna go _there_?"

"Well... I don't know." Lauren stared at the screen, then started to laugh. "That fandom's got a high mortality rate, so if I don't like it, it's pretty easy for me to die again."

"But I thought we liked Lord of the Rings?"

Lauren practically had a seizure crammed into the timespan of a half-second. "I am such a goddanmed idiot!" she said loudly, and yet with mirth. "How that tiny fact escaped my brain is beyond me. Alright, yeah, we're going there."

Nicole just laughed. "You scared me there for a second."

The girl was leaned forward in determination to find Lord of the Rings. A handful of clicks later, and it's page was on the screen. Nicole leaned in closer over Lauren's shoulder. "_You will be assigned a body and a race as the world sees fit_," she read. "What does that even mean?"

"Uh, my only guess would be that when we walk through the door and get new bodies, the, uh... I donno. Middle-earth gets to decide what forms we take?"

Nicole nodded her head from side to side. "Yeah, sounds about right. Where do we go?"

Lauren's eyes scanned the page. "Door A-205..."

"Print it."

The girl clicked the "print" link, and before long, a small piece of paper the size of a receipt was produced from a slot on the side, and Nicole promptly tore it out. Lauren rose from her seat and took a gander at the information. It had the fandom name, and room number.

"I really doubt that this room numbering system is the same kind they use back home, so that 2 probably doesn't refer to a floor.."

Nicole headed back over to the counter, waiting patiently for Steve to finish whipping up a chocolate double shot cappuccino machiato with whipped cream and caramel swirl whatever. Lauren followed and folded her ams on the surface, resting her chin on them. Suddenly, Nicole started shrieking.

"Quinn! What in the bloody hell are you doing here!" The blonde stormed over to a boy on the other side of the bar, waiting in line for some coffee patiently. He looked to be about six feet tall, maybe taller, and a bit on the hefty side. A thick pair of glasses that adorned his rosy face were pushed up the bridge of his nose with a plumpish finger.

"Nicole Mitchell?"

"Of course you tard. What are you doing here?"

Lauren remained where she was for the duration of their exchange, not really knowing who this Quinn character was, except through a complaint from Nicole here and there over the phone.

"I'm dead? Why else? And I'm also here to get some coffee."

"Of course, how could I forget. Once a fatty, always a fatty. Even in death."

She continued to watch them, not entirely sure why Nicole liked picking on him so much. They'd known each other in high school, and apparently bickered then too, so the only reason Lauren could conjure to explain her friend's continuing interaction with him was that she had a crush. Though from what she understood, Quinn was a bible-thumper, and a not so smart one at that, but since when did stupidity drive away Nicole? Besides; Nicole was pagan to an extent, and she was sure that it bothered the boy to no end on some level.

Quinn narrowed his glassy green eyes at her. "That was uncalled for. Come on, Nicole, why you gotta be mean now too? We're all dead, so just get over it."

"Doesn't change the fact that you stalked me and made drama class a living hell."

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't stalk you! What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Have a fun rest of eternity, you ass."

Nicole stormed back over to where Lauren waited in mild irritation. "What was all that about?"

She just laughed. "Nothing, don't worry about it."

The girl set her jaw and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. You gonna ask Steve what this ticket means now?"

"Oh, right right." She took the piece of paper out of her pocket and flagged down the hipster barista. "Hey, what's this number mean?"

Steve leaned in, brushing his long, greasy bangs out of the way of an eye, completely covering the other. With his index finger, he pointed at the ambiguous code. "You go to hallway A, then down the second corridor, and it's door number 05. Should be on the left."

"Thanks man."

"Yeah sure."

The two young women turned away from the bar, and stood in front of a doorway labeled with a big letter "A" above it. There seemed to be hallways A-E, and Lauren pondered for a moment where they might lead. "Come one," Nicole said before bolting through the opening and down a long flight of white stairs. At the bottom, they came to a fork. There were arrows pointing to the right and left, and above them read a 1 and a 2.

"Corridor 2, right?"

Lauren made a sharp right down the white hallway. It was rather eerie, in actuality. The stark whiteness was nothing compared to the relative comfort of the waiting room, as this was more industrial, more... oppressive and sterile. It was also dead silent save for the pitter patter of footsteps.

"You saw the second Matrix, right?" she asked Nicole over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"This reminds me of that part with the old asian guy and the keys, and all the doors in that hallway that go places."

"Hm, wonder if they got that idea from this?"

Lauren laughed. "Oh! Door 05, right here."

The two girls stopped in front of the rather unassuming door. In fact, it looks exactly like all the others, except it had a small plaque on it that read A-205. There was no handle. "Is this some kind of elevator?" Lauren murmured while pushing the single button on the wall next to it. The door slid open, revealing a rather spacious elevator car interior. The walls were lined with mirrors.

"Man, this is weird," she said, and they stepped inside.

"You think?"

"I wonder what direction we're going in."

"I don't care," Nicole said as the door slid shut. "So long as it isn't down." She pressed the single button to take them to their destination, quite unsure as to what lay in wait for them or how they'd get there. Lauren noted that there was absolutely no indication as to what direction the elevator was going or how long the ride would be. Whoever designed this place did a very good job at making it creepy and disorienting. But strange enough, the elevator didn't seem to be moving at all.

"Hey? Is this thing broken or something?" Lauren stepped forward and jabbed the button again, and suddenly the lights went out, leaving them in pitch blackness. Nicole let out a shriek. But before they could do anything else, the lights returned, leaving Lauren even more disoriented, and slightly heavier, than before.

"What the..."

Lauren almost jumped when she saw herself in one of the mirrors. Her previously white and modern ensemble had been replaced by the dark greens and browns of an Ithilien ranger. Now become part of her person were black pants, brown, long-sleeved undershirt, dark green surcoat that reached her knees, jerkin that reached the top of her boots, dark leather vest, light brown yoke, green cloak, leather vambraces, and a standard issue Gondorian sword at her side. The entire outfit probably weighed more than fifteen pounds, which certainly explained the weight. She could believe it. This outfit was hers now? To keep and live with in Middle-earth? Lauren drew her three-and-a-half foot sword just to make sure it was real.

"Lauren..." Nicole's voice snapped her out of the stupor she'd found herself in, and jerking her head to the side, Lauren saw Nicole's new outfit. "We're going to Middle-earth!" she shrieked, jumping up and down.

Acting like that was the last thing she would expect to see coming from an _Elf. _She made an alright elf... a little on the short side, face still sprinkled with blemishes, and hair was a little oily. Those things could be worked on though, right?

Lauren was about to speak when the elevator door opened. The two girls fell dead silent as they stared out into the world that greeted their eyes.

Well, actually, it was a bookstore, suspiciously similar to a Barns & Noble. With awe-struck, hesitant movements, the two companions stepped out of the elevator and into the building, glancing around with wild eyes.

"Are we there yet?" Lauren whispered to Nicole, feeling as though speaking at a normal volume would somehow send them back. Nicole's blue eyes darted around, as did Lauren's, settling on a person here, a person there, a row of books on the far side of the store, and finally, an open archway leading into the real outside world.

"I... think so."

Lauren began to laugh to herself. It started off slow and quiet, but soon gained momentum until she was cackling like a person gone mad. She was laughing so hard that tears began to wet her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Shit, dude!" she replied, still laughing uncontrollably. Her hands made a gesture of defeat, and at the same time she shrugged. "We're in Middle-earth!" Lauren covered her face with her hand as the laughter died down, and she then proceeded to wipe her eyes. "We're in fuckin' Middle-earth."

Nicole laughed at her friend who'd apparently snapped, and walked over to the closest display of books. Lauren followed as soon as she composed herself again.

She could see why Nicole had been curious about them: they didn't seem to be normal books you'd see in a normal bookstore back home. Every single one of them was leather or suede-bound, and upon closer inspection, the contents seemed to be hand-written. And just to add to the peculiarity, the one Nicole had picked up wasMemoirs of a Geisha.

"Man dude, this is fucking weird," she said, putting the book back. "Why go through all the trouble of having all these books if they're not mass produced?"

"Actually," a voice from beside them said. Lauren and Nicole turned to see a girl about their age who'd apparently been given the form of a brunette elf. "They are mass-produced. I don't know how they do it, but that's what DERIF says. Gotta admit, though, it's pretty cool. You don't really want paperbacks and hard cover books finding their way into civilian hands, right?"

"Wait, what?" Lauren knitted her brows together, trying to figure out what the girl was saying. "We just got here, sorry."

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "My bad. Anyways, yeah. They disguise the books so that they won't merit attention from the people that actually live here and can't find out about this stuff."

"So fans are allowed to buy this stuff and take it places?"

"Well, yeah. The organization that keeps track of the fans is called DERIF, The Department of Education and Regulation of Imported Fans. This is where their headquarters are. Their job is to make sure us kids don't ruin the lives of the people who actually live here, and part of that is keeping technology from being introduced."

Lauren nodded her head. "Oooh, I see. So wait, where is 'here', anyways?"

The girl smiled. "We're in Rivendell."

She got a small rush just from hearing that. In fact, the girl was almost tempted to ask where they were again just to hear it _said_ again. "Sweeeeet!"

"Welcome to Middle-earth. I'm Sandra by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Sandra," Nicole chimed in. "I'm Nicole, and this is Lauren." Lauren grinned and gave a curt salute, as was her habit and preferred gesture of greeting. Nicole shook the girl's hand.

"Well, I'm sure you guys are excited to get exploring and stuff. Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Maybe," Lauren said, smiling politely. "Bye!" And with that, the two girls scampered off towards th exit of the store. However, an elf behind a booth near the door stopped them.

"Hi there," he said in an eerily modern way of speaking, motioning for the two of them to come over. "You two ladies must be new."

"Er.. yes we are," Lauren said.

"Well then! I should like to bid you welcome to Middle-earth on behalf of DERIF, the Department of Education and Regulation of Imported Fanatics. Now, the Elves do truly wish that you and your kind lead happy lives here, but unfortunately, there are laws that must be upheld so that you do not upset the mortal dwellers of this land." The dark-haired elf reached behind the booth and produced a pamphlet made seemingly hand-printed individually, but Lauren had her doubts now with the knowledge of what Sandra said. It was probably mass produced somewhere and made to look hand-made. The elf turned to the first page, revealing a map of Eriador, and a pull-out map of the entire continent. "We are currently in Imladris, or Rivendell, which is here," he said, pointing to the corresponding place on the map. "I should hope you know where it is already, or else perhaps this was not so good of a place for you to come," he joked lightly. The two girls laughed in an awkward way and agreed with him. He continued. "These here are Elf-realms." He pointed to Rivendell, Lorien, the northern portion of Mirkwood, and Lindon. "You are safe to be yourselves in any of these places for the most part. Use of technology is also allowed, to a certain extent. Now, DERIF defines technology as anything that has come from your time, including trinkets, books, electronic devices, foodstuffs, and the like. Use of such things, and also use of excessive colloquial English is illegal outside of these borders. We will take action against those who care not for the sanctity of this world, and have done so in the past."

"What... sort of action do you take against these people?" Lauren asked out of uneasy curiosity.

"The more minor cases are required to spend a prolonged time here in Rivendell, where the organization may keep an eye on them. However, severe criminals do not have the luxury of a second chance. They are sent back as soon as possible."

Lauren swallowed, quite sure she understood what he meant by that.

"But at any rate, this pamphlet here will provide all the information that you might need to know about living in Middle-earth. Rules and regulations, a swift lesson in speech and etiquette, and so on and so forth. Do you have any questions?"

In fact, Lauren had many. But where to first begin was proving to be quite a challenge, so Nicole butt in with one of hers.

"Where do we sleep tonight? How do we eat?" Yes, that was a good one. She planned on asking that.

"Ah, yes of course. There is a building set aside for your people to take refuge in for as long as you wish. Meals, however, are not provided, as you need not eat to sustain yourselves. Nor do you need sleep, but beds are prepared for you in the house regardless."

This information struck Lauren as being really creepy, and really cool at the same time. She began to wonder what other otherworldly things her new, hardier body could do, but then the release form and questionnaire from the waiting room came to mind, and she decided that it was perhaps best not to test anything that may yield unfavorable results.

"Sweet!" Nicole cheered. "That's really cool. Alright, now when would you suggest we leave, since we don't plan on staying here forever?"

"You are free to leave whenever you'd like. The weather will be fair for some months, so time should be of little concern if you plan to travel. Do you have any other questions?"

Lauren pursed her lips before looking at her friend. "I think I'm good. Personally, I kind of want to figure this out myself... ya dig?"

Nicole nodded.

"All right, then. In that case, here is some monetary compensation to jump-start your journey here in Middle-earth." He handed them each a small burlap pouch, heavy with coinage. The girls squealed their thanks. Upon further confirmation that the crash-course was over, the two of them left the welcome desk with the full intention of exploring Rivendell before returning to comb the bookstore for superfluous items to buy.

"Oh my god," the two of them gasped when they'd stepped into the first open, airy, swirly Elven corridor that Rivendell had to offer them. Lauren could feel her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets as she stood there in an awe-inspired stupor. In fact, her mouth had fallen ajar as well, and only until she accidentally inhaled a floating dandelion seed did she realize it was open. After a short fit of coughing and sputtering did she pick the spindly white thing from her tongue and turn to Nicole who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Don't die on me again, now."

Lauren ignored the comment, and began to take steps forward, across the hallway and into a small courtyard. The sun immediately mauled her, and so she decided it would be better to admire Rivendell from the shade. "Man," she said, resting her arms on her hips and shaking her head. "I know I was a sci-fi nerd at the end there, but this most definitely brings me back to my roots in fantasy."

It was quite true, really. She'd spent her last year of high school and first semester of college being utterly enamored with the worlds of Battlestar Galactica and the like, not to mention her life-long association with Star Wars. (The first three, mind you, not those poor excuses for drama that episodes II and III were. I did actually like Episode I quite a bit...) And even her taste in fashion was influenced by space and cyber culture, what with the eccentric, neon jackets she owned, her industrial demeanor, and pale gray combat boots she wore everywhere. But the Lauren that loved trees and Elves and whimsy was an older Lauren, and not wholly dead by any means. It was just lying dormant, and now with an entire fantastic world for her to explore, that aspect had sprung to life, shoving the cyberpunk kid she'd become far off to the side.

Lauren was aware of the weight of her sword on her left side and decided that it felt right.

The girls explored a bit, still high in their giddy ecstasy, the grounds of the Last Homely House. There were fans everywhere, and after an hour or two of wandering around, she began to notice that there were no fans outside of the confines of the property. That was also when she was reminded that there was an entire continent just waiting for exploration outside of Rivendell. But just how many other fans actually had the guts to leave this haven in favor of a big, dangerous world that was still mostly wilderness, interspersed with cities that were populated by people of strange customs? Just how many fans actually went out into Middle-earth to live there? A good, informed part of her said that the ratio was considerably uneven.

Fortunately for Lauren, she didn't have to do too much more thinking as at about that time, she and Nicole had resigned to spend the next few hours perusing the bookstore.

"Oh man! They have an occult section!" Nicole called out from some corner of the store.

Lauren looked up for a short moment, chuckling to herself before returning to scouring through the CDs. She was a girl that was very much into music, and it would be an extremely difficult challenge for her to go eternity without the songs she knew and loved. Not to mention that she would most likely drive Nicole insane from living up to her nickname as the Human Radio if she didn't have music to listen to.

Moving away from the dance and techno section, Lauren headed over to 'Pop/Rock' and scoured the T section. In a matter of seconds, she'd found the clump of Tool albums. And of course, it was the usual: Undertow, Opiate, Ænima, Lateralus... and without so much as a second thought, she plucked out Lateralus. It was pretty much her favorite album of all time, and had been since she was 13. So it was only natural that, if she had to listen to one album for as long as she could imagine, it would be that one. But... what to play it on? Lauren wandered around the music section for a little while before discovering the slightly laughable selection of CD players. It seems that DERIF only wanted to import slightly more archaic-looking players, so for some reason the plastic they were made of had a faux woodgrain pattern. Lauren couldn't help but laugh to herself as she picked out the cheapest one (making sure it was non-skip, of course).

The two girls perused the store a bit longer before purchasing their goods (Lauren squeezed in a few bottles of IBC root beer at the end), leaving them just as broke as they were when they stepped out of the elevator. Quite unsure what to do next, Lauren and Nicole settled on hanging around in one of the gardens while checking out the two New Age-y paperbacks the blonde had purchased. One was about astral projection, and the other was about Green Man lore. Lauren wondered if her friend genuinely planned on using them (she herself hadn't been a practicing Pagan for years), and in which case she would have to lol a bit. Fortunately, the girl was given the impression that Nicole had bought them for some entertainment while traveling. Lauren had to show her friend the musical things she'd bought, and in return received a warning reminder of what the DERIF representative (as well as that girl they'd met) had told them about secrecy. Lauren waved at her dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's not like I'm going to be listening to it while practicing archery in Edoras or anything. Trust me, I'll only use it when I'm feeling particularly bored." Lauren stuffed the CD back in the small sack she'd been given at the register, getting more comfortable on the bench they were sitting on. The two of them were on some veranda overlooking the falls, and the mist floating up from the bottom made a great big rainbow in front of them. All in all, it was an extremely beautiful and relaxing place, and she would have wanted to stay had it not been for that cursed wanderlust. "So where do we go now?"

The question was simple, but much like the one Nicole had voiced when they were in Purgatory, looking over the lists of afterlives, it was loaded.

"Uh... I donno. Where do you want to go?"

"I want to see Gondor," Lauren said, smiling. "If Peter Jackson's vision was breath-taking, I can only imagine how awesome the real thing is. Besides... I've always had a affinity with the country."

Nicole nodded. "I wanna go to Mirkwood," she stated rather casually after a moment.

"Mirkwood?" the ranger girl had skewed her face and turned to get a good look at her friend. "Why they hell would you want to go to Mirkwood?"

"Hey! Aren't I allowed to go see if Tharanduil is as crazy as all the fanfictions make him out to be if I want to? Besides, it's not like we don't have FOREVER to see all of Middle-earth."

"Touche."

"When did you want to leave?"

"Uhm... well, I know I shouldn't be in any hurry, seeing as how we have forever, but... it seems somewhat boring here. Too many fans, I think. It's not really authentic enough for me." The girl laughed to herself. "I wanna be smelly and dirty and tired from travel and I want to talk like I'm acting in a Shakespearian play."

"That's the spirit!"

"So... want to leave tomorrow morning?"

"Wow, that's pretty soon, but... sure, I'm cool with that."

"Alright so how about we stick together until we get to Edoras, at which point we'll split up and go our separate ways. I mean, it can't be too difficult to navigate from there. For me, I head south around the mountains, and for you, you just follow the river north 'til you get to the forest."

Nicole considered this and shrugged. "Sure."

And so it came to pass that the two young women floundered around for the rest of the day, taking unnecessary naps in the sun, climbing trees, and partaking in an assortment of generally harmless hooliganry. It was only after dark did they get a little bored and so tried to spy in on the Elves, who seemed to try and attempt to carry on with their every day lives, despite the fact that their very existence seemed to take on a whole different level of exhaustion with the rather sudden appearance of fans several years before. Lauren began to pity them, as now the Elves seemed to be somewhat forced into living in Middle-earth longer than they would like, serving as little more than caretakers for the fans. However, it gave her all the more reason to leave so soon.

The night passed on in idle, anxious, boredom. Despite not needing sleep, Lauren found herself dozing off a few times during the dark, quieter hours, which seemed to make it pass more slowly. But dawn came, and the Last Homely House was once again flooded with light from the summer sun.

"I wonder if we could get our hands on some horses?" Lauren proposed with a yawn. "Because walking halfway across the continent doesn't sound incredibly glamorous."

Nicole laughed. "What happened to being dirty and stinky and tired?"

"Naw, I don't mind that, it's just I'd like to still have legs by the end of my journey."

"Hey, if the Fellowship did it, so can you."

Lauren folded her arms. "If I walk, you walk."

"Let's see about those horses."

After some investigation, Lauren and Nicole discovered that it was entirely possible to be lent a pair of horses for travel, and that other fans have taken advantage of the opportunity before. They were to see an Elf by the name of Glorfindel at the stables.

It took them some time to find out just where the stables were exactly, but after investigating a path that led away from the main house, the two girls found themselves walking past rows of studios and workshops. There, the Elves seemed to be able to be at peace, doing whatever Elves do when they make their almost ridiculously intricate handicrafts and whatnot. At the end of this small, gravel-paved avenue, were the stables, and much to Lauren's surprise, there didn't seem to be any other fans hanging around.

Glorfindel was very kind to them, and seemed to have a genuinely sunny disposition as the fans were concerned, much unlike his fellows inhabiting the Last Homely House. She could only imagine how very strange of a situation it was for any of them, and for him to take it in such stride merited some props.

"Two horses?" he confirmed with them after some talk. "With tack and saddlebags?"

"Yessir," Lauren nodded. "If you're willing to supply them, that is."

"How much will it be?"

The golden-haired elf smiled and waved at them with his hand. "Nonsense. They will be provided at no charge to you. In fact, DERIF is very much in favor of getting your kind dispersed through Middle-earth."

Lauren laughed. "I don't blame them."

Glorfindel laughed too. "We do ask, though, that the horses be returned at some point in the future." Then he added in a mutter: "Though rarely does it ever happen..."

"Oh, of course. I wouldn't expect to take two horses from you and never give them back. Lord knows how expensive the damn things are to begin with."

The elf beckoned the two girls to follow him. "Have either of you riding experience?" he asked as they walked past the occupied stalls.

"I've got some," Nicole piped in.

"Me too. No really enough to be 100 confident, but enough to know just a little more than the basics."

"Perfect." He paused in front of one stall and opened it, leading out a young mare with a bright, fiery brown coat and black mane. "This is Miril. She is brave and eager for adventure." Here, Glorfy handed Lauren the lead rope, which she thought peculiar. The horse did seem to match with her personality-wise, but how was he able to tell that from just a few minutes of talking to them? The girl pet the horse's black, velvet nose before following behind Nicole. The elf had stopped again, and pulled out a white and silver male horse for the other girl. He seemed to be pretty laid back and even-tempered: a perfect match for her? Something like that. "And this is Thinroch, a veteran of the wilderness. If you two follow me, I'll arrange tack and bags for you."

Lauren and Nicole were eternally grateful to the elf for his incredibly... almost over-the-top kindness. Maybe he really just wanted to get the fans out of Rivendell to the best of his ability, but whatever the reason, Lauren didn't really care much. He was giving them very nice things, and she was thankful.

It was about 40 minutes later when they were finally able to leave. They packed what little things they had to their name, and left with many farewells (and promises of return) to Glorfindel. Upon a quick inspection of their backs, it was quite obvious he'd even packed them a few goodies... apples, waybread, and who knows what else.

But the day was wearing on, and noon was almost upon them upon their leaving. The sky was perfectly clear, the sun was hot, but fortunately, the path they were to take out of the valley would be covered in shadow for some time before being exposed again.

And once more Lauren found herself thinking just how beautiful the entire scene was. So many trees and wonderful natural formations... it would be a most pleasant (and long) ride to Gondor indeed.


	2. On Disclaimers: Fun Not Guaranteed

_**1.08.08 Update: **Chapter heavily edited._

* * *

And so after the two riders left Rivendell, they came to the southernmost part of the river Loudwater (also known as Bruinen to the Elves), and rode alongside it. The river ran low, Lauren guessed, because it was summer, and the blazing sun that beat on their backs helped further prove this. And wearing leather didn't help. At all.

After about an hour the path they were following bent sharply to the left and up a steep hillside. They stopped and Lauren got out her map, and shoved it back in her pack with a growl.

"The map isn't detailed enough to show the stupid paths," she stated with frustration.

"I think the horses can make it up the hill," Nicole said after studying the incline for a moment.

"You think so? If not, we can blaze another trail straight ahead... as long as we stay in the shadow of the mountain, we'll be fine."

Miril neighed.

"I think she wants to try the hill," Nicole said, and patted Thinroch's head. "What about you? Want to try the path?" Thinroch snorted and pawed the ground. "I think we should try it before we waste the afternoon picking our way through the brush."

"Alright. You go first."

Nicole gently dug the heels of her shoes into Thinroch's sides and he trotted up the path. It took some effort to get past the steepest part, but once they were at the top, Nicole shouted down to Lauren. "The path is even up here and it goes for a long time. I'm sure Miril will be able to make it easier than Thinroch."

Lauren sighed, and spoke to Miril in her ear. "If you get a little bit of a start, it might be easier to get up that hill," she said and the horse shook her head wildly. Lauren didn't need to squeeze the horse to get her moving. Miril had a mind of her own, but she wasn't wild and wayward. She got herself into a good canter before speeding up the path on the hill with seemingly less effort than Thinroch.

"See? It's wasn't too steep. C'mon it's probably almost four already, and we probably have another four hours to go before sundown if it's summer."

Lauren nodded and Miril began to trot beside Thinroch when Nicole got him moving again. "Let's see... four hours won't get us close to any landmark, but in around two or maybe three days, we should be getting close to the base of the mountains," she predicted, pointing to the bleak rocky wall that reared itself up about thirty miles ahead of them. "But I'm sure we can make at least ten miles today, if the horses keep up this pace."

It was at around dusk when their path veered down to the right again, down a moderate decline into a valley carved out by one of the branches of Loudwater as it scurried down from the Misty Mountains. Now in that small cleft in between two forested hills it was relatively grassy, and Lauren jumped off of Miril's back to let her graze, somehow knowing that she wouldn't run off. The horse happily drank from the river at the bank, and continued to munch on the lush grass. Nicole did the same, again without hurt to her dignity.

"How can you get on and of your horse so perfectly when you're wearing a goddamn dress? You aren't even riding side-saddle!" Lauren complained. So far, though her horse was very well tempered, mounting and dismounting had been little more than an ordeal for her; and she was wearing pants.

"It's because I'm an elf, remember?" She smiled sweetly, but there was a mocking look behind the grin.

"I'll deal with you and your haughtiness later!" Lauren shouted as she jumped from rock to rock across the river to get to the taller hill on the other side. She wanted to get a look around. Perhaps in the morning, she would be able to see as far south as Hollin. She remembered coming back from her Aunt's house in the mountains, and being able to see Catalina Island far off in the gross, hazy distance. That was sixty, seventy, miles perhaps? And with sickeningly huge amounts of smog choking the air as well. And Hollin was... almost fifty and one hundred miles away.

"Oh great..." Lauren muttered to herself on the hill. "Now I'm thinking like them."

She stood there on the hilltop for as long as she could, and watched the sun bleed in the western sky until all grew dark. Then she made her way back down and across the river to find Nicole sitting on a rock with the horses. She had a small fire going.

"How the hell did you pull that off?" Lauren demanded.

Nicole looked up and smirked. "Looks like our friend Glorfy snuck a few things into our packs along with the dog biscuits and apples." She held up a long knife and it glittered in the orange blaze of the fire, and a bedroll.

"But that doesn't answer my question..."

"He slipped a tinderbox into my pack. What's in yours?" She gestured to Lauren's pack still clinging to Miril's back. Lauren walked over and emptied it onto the grassy ground. Root beer... CD player... bedroll... Lembas...

"What's this?" Lauren pulled out a small pouch from among the pile of things. It was a deep velvet bag with a drawstring; and she opened it, pulling out a small piece of paper. She read it out loud:

_"Use in the terrible and unlikely event that wound or illness should befall one of your small company.  
-Glorfindel"_

"What d'you suppose that means?" Nicole asked, munching on a piece of bread.

"I don't know.." Lauren turned the bag upside down, an it's contents emptied onto her hand. It was four long sprigs of some sort of plant. The leaves were small, and it bore tiny pale blue flowers on each sprig. "Here. Smell this." She handed one to Nicole, who took it gingerly.

"It smells like rosemary or thyme, or something like that." She handed it back.

Lauren stuffed the plants and note into the pouch and drew the strings tight. "Maybe they're for healing?"

"Maybe. What else do you have in there?"

"Well, a small wad of linen bandages to go I guess with the healing herbs... and..." she sifted through the stuff a little more. "Hey, look! I got a knife too." She held up the folded steel blade that was barely eight inches long, and placed it in it's small sheath.

"Awesome. Glorfindel is my favorite elf now. By far," Nicole said, finishing the bread.

"Yea. He was the coolest." She fingered the knife a little bit, before thinking up a good place to put it. Grabbing her sword, she began to mess with the leather straps that were bound to the sheath that held it on her belt. Loosening them up a bit, she slid the sheath of the knife in between the straps and the sword sheath on the exterior, so it resembled Aragorn's original sword. She stood up and showed it to Nicole by firelight. "Nifty, huh?"

Nicole gave her a thumbs-up sign. "Nice."

Lauren sat down, and silence crept over them, as well as a grey mist from the river. She looked into the dancing flames, and suddenly felt tired, and actually wanted to sleep. She wanted to ask Nicole if she was tired too.

"Dude."

"Hm."

"Are you tired?"

"Not really."

"I am."

"Really? I thought we don't get tired."

"Yea. I know. But I'm like... wanting to go to sleep all of a sudden, even if it's for like an hour."

"Hm. Go to sleep then."

"Will you watch the stuff?"

"Sure. The horses will help too."

"Alright."

"Good night."

"Night." Lauren unrolled her bedroll, which was little more than a thick wool blanket, laying it down on a relatively flat spot near the fire, and settled down on it. She soon drifted off into a light and peaceful sleep like a feather on the breeze as the chirping of the crickets filled her ears, and the warm night air filled her thoughts.

Lauren woke up from her little nap on the ground with a stiff neck, and looked up at the dome of glittering stars far above them. Just looking at the night sky so uncontaminated from the byproducts of technology made her want to contemplate the mysteries of the universe again. She looked over the dying embers of the fire to where Nicole was, but she had fallen asleep too and was curled up in a pitiful little ball on the ground. Both horses were asleep as well. Just as she was going to have another go at the sleep gig, she heard something on the other hill across the way. Thinroch began to get up, but Lauren whispered for him to stay put, and he settled back down again. Those horses were smart.

Lauren grabbed her sword, and tried really hard not to make any noise with it as she slowly pulled it from it's sheath. For some reason, it wanted to make more noise than usual. She crept over to where Nicole lay and shook her to wake up. Nicole groaned and turned over, so Lauren had to resort to kicking her to get up.

"Ow!" she said loudly.

Lauren clasped her hand over Nicole's mouth. "Shhh!" she hissed, and removed it.

"What is it?" Nicole whispered.

"I don't know... something's over there... hear it?" They both remained still and quiet for a moment when they heard something walking in the underbrush not too far away. As they listened harder, Lauren heard it grumbling quietly to itself.

Nicole swore in panic, and went to grab her little knife.

"Nono... you stay here. I'll go see what it is."

Nicole eyed Lauren as if she had finally snapped.

"I'll be careful, and I've got a sword. That alone will keep it a few feet away from me."

"Fine."

Lauren slowly stood up and crept around the fire and to the bank of the river. She peered out into the darkness, but saw nothing save for the vague silhouettes of trees on the other side. She heard it again, and cursed in her head. It was at times like those that she wished she had a ranged weapon to scare her enemies out of the bushes. All she could do now was wait. Come to think of it, waiting in the bushes wasn't so bad an idea, so Lauren crouched down behind a hedge and waited some more.

As her eyes became more accustomed to the dark, she could barely see the trees on the other side, but something else was there. It was barely lighter than the rest of the landscape; white perhaps, as it stumbled towards the riverbank and began picking it's way across the ford. What was it? Her question would soon be answered.

The thing made it's way to the closer shore, and in the faint glow of the dying fire, Lauren could see that it was a person. Without hesitation, she leapt out from her hiding spot at the individual, pinning them to the ground with the tip of her sword inches away from their neck. It reminded her very much of the scene with Frodo pouncing on Gollum in the second movie.

"What the hell!" the person shouted. The voice definitely belonged to a male. He tried pushing Lauren off him, but no avail; he would just end up getting his own throat slit in the process. "Get off me!"

It took Lauren a moment before realizing that the voice was familiar, but Nicole beat her to it.

"Quinn!" she yelled. "What the **fuck **are you doing here!"

"Tell us quick," Lauren snarled. "Or I'll leave you for the carrion birds."

"I'll tell you when you get off me," he said poisonously.

With hesitation, Lauren let Quinn go, but she didn't sheath her sword. He stood up and brushed himself off.

"Your explanation had better be good, or we'll hand you over to the Elves and let the DERIF deal with you," Nicole spat.

"I thought I was going to be left for carrion birds?" he said wryly.

"The DERIF's much worse. You'll get hauled out of Middle-earth for good." Whether or not he knew just what that meant was a different matter, but**she **knew, and that's all that mattered.

"I don't think so," Quinn said, folding his arms. "Gabriel HIMSELF gave me permission to come here."

"Oh yea? Well we answer to another holy system," Nicole replied.

"What are you talking about? God rules all worlds; even Middle-earth."

"Nope." Lauren shook her head. "Eru and the Valar have reign here."

"Well, that doesn't matter anyways. I can't leave until I get what I came for."

The two girls narrowed their eyes at him. "And what did you come here for," Nicole said flatly.

"Some good old Starbucks coffee."

Lauren threw her arms up. "Are you fucking serious? You came here for _coffee_? I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Quinn, but Middle-earth doesn't have Starbucks as far as I can tell."

Quinn just stood there, dumbfounded, yet his eyebrows were knitted together. "So... I was lied to. By an Archangel."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well... I wasn't in Heaven for too long before getting Starbucks cravings, so I asked around, and Gabriel told me that there was none to be found in Heaven (something having to do with the caffeine stunting wing growth), so I asked where I **could **get some, and he said fans here get all the Starbucks they want... so..."

Lauren smacked herself in the forehead and groaned. "Oh my god."

Nicole seemed to do something very similar. "Since there's no coffee here, can't Gabriel just like, beam you back up or something?"

"I... don't think so. I think I actually need to get some Starbucks before I can go."

She stared at the ground, wondering what exactly they were going to do about Quinn. "Go fill this up in the river and douse the fire with it, will you," she said, tossing him a cup.

Quinn gave one last glare before storming off to the bank to fetch some water.

"What was that?" Nicole asked.

"A cup. One last gift from Glorfindel the Awesome."

Nicole nodded as she began to roll up her bedroll. "What in the hell are we going to do about him?"

Lauren sighed. "Shit, dude. I really don't know. He says he can't leave until he gets coffee? Then there's nothing we _can_ do. As far as we know, he's stuck here."

"You're saying that he's going to come with us?" Nicole asked sharply.

"What else are we going to do? Everyone's paying for his fucking stupid decisions. And god... what the hell was Gabriel thinking..."

"I heard that!" Quinn said as he came back to their little area. "And it's true. I can't go back to heaven unless I get what I came for. Those Archangels have you make weird promises."

"Why would they make you do that!" Lauren spat. "Don't they realize what exactly you were asking of them? Are they not aware at ALL of how things work here?"

Quinn shrugged. "Guess not."

"Well you can't go prancing around in that white robe of yours. You need some smelly, dirty traveling clothes while you're in Middle-earth," Nicole said, and flung him her cloak. "And don't think I'm being generous. It's for our own good. I don't need it anyways."

Quinn gave them a questionable look, but put on the cloak anyways. "Why can't I be seen, exactly? Seeing an angel should light up their eyes in this ridiculous place."

"Because angels don't exist here, asshole," Lauren said flatly. "They don't know about the other fandoms, and just having the Elves keep track of all the dead Lord of the Rings fans in their blissful afterlife is enough for this little world." She told him in brief of what the guidelines in the pamphlet were. When she was done, Quinn stood there in silence.

"You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, huh?" Nicole said mockingly.

All he did was glare at her, and dump the contents of the cup onto the smoldering fire. They quickly learned how dark the world got without city lights.

After the fire was out, the real challenge lay in mounting up. Even though horses could see just about as well as humans could in the dark, Lauren asked Miril to find somewhere that would make mounting easier anyways. After scrambling onto the horse's back via nearby rock, Nicole decided it was a good idea and did the same.

"You know? I think I'm getting the hang of this," Lauren announced to no one in particular as she adjusted herself in the Elvish saddle. She heard Quinn mumble a few indistinct syllables that she assumed to be a complaint. "Don't be such a little shit, Quinn. Walking is good for you."

Even though it was completely dark save for a faint silver glow behind the mountains, she could tell he was glaring at her. She simply glared back, and he replied with some sort of snide remark that Lauren never caught. Her attention had shifted from him to a strange sort of glow that she barely saw in the gloom. At first she wasn't completely sure that it was actually there, and if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her in the darkness, but the more she looked at him, the more the luminescence seemed to shine where the cloak wasn't covering him up. "I think you need to wrap that cloak around you a bit tighter, Quinn."

"What?" His voice was devoid of patience.

Nicole cleared her throat as a sign that she knew what Lauren was talking about. That was a reassuring thought: now Lauren knew that if she _were _crazy, at least she wasn't the only one.

"Cover yourself up more." She restated her command in simpler words.

"Why? It's too hot to completely wrap this thing around me."

"Just do it, Quinn," Nicole said finally.

"Fine. But the least you can do is to tell me why."

"Because you're, uh..." Nicole began. "You're glowing."

Since it was nighttime, Lauren could only imagine what his facial expression was right then. He lifted his hand and looked at it in the dark for a moment, and put it down with what looked to be a smirk on his face. "So I am."

"Yes, you are. And like we've said twice already, cover yourself up more or else you had better not cry when you find out you've been ditched if we're attacked." Lauren wished he would just wrap the fucking thing up tighter so they could get going. Both her and Nicole had hundreds of miles to go, and the first day of their journey wasn't even over yet.

"Attacked? Do you seriously think that those orc things are really going to kill us? That is if there are any left."

"Oh, don't you worry, Quinn. There are plenty left to go around. Just because Sauron's empire has been destroyed, that doesn't mean his lackeys have suddenly decided to become functioning members of human society." Thinroh snorted in agreement.

"So in that case," Lauren said. "You need to hide your 'inner radiance' and start walking or we'll leave without you."

"Fine."

"And no complaining either. You brought this upon yourself."

"FINE. Any other things I'm not allowed to do before I'm dealt one of your many consequences?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Lauren said wryly, and took a deep breath. "No complaining, no whining, no crying, no escaping, no griping, no scheming, no stealing, no questioning our decisions, no talking bad about Lord of the Rings..." She took another breath. "No running off, no making excessive amounts of noise, no talking, no thinking, and no favors."

"It that all?"

"Uhm... yeah. Yeah, that's it."

"Are we all done bickering for tonight now?" Nicole said impatiently. Lauren had almost forgotten that she was even there. "Because, like you said Lauren, we have a freaking long ways to go."

"I'm all set," she replied, patting her ansy horse.

"And how are we supposed to see?" Quinn asked.

"If you pay more attention to your surroundings rather than how horseless you are, you would notice that an almost full moon is rising," Nicole said, pointing to the silver glow behind the mountains. Apparently, whilst they were arguing, the glow had given birth to a rather large and bright fruit of Telperion, and He was rising quickly.

"Let's go, then!" Lauren said rather enthusiastically. For some reason, the rising moon had given her a sort of second wind. And with that she was off when Miril began to canter off across the ford and Thinroch closely followed. She looked back to see Quinn scuttling close behind Nicole, trying to keep his cloak on, keep up his speed, and trying not to fall in as he jumped from rock to rock, cursing and mumbling as he went. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing.

And so they continued on like that for about an hour, Miril and Lauren in front, Nicole and Thinroch in the middle, and Quinn in the rear. Miril just seemed to be having the time of her life, blazing the old path that hadn't been trodden on since the Fellowship themselves hiked on it most likely. The moon rose and Lauren could see more of the landscape around her: gray hills rising in the distance dotted with black stones and ancient walls that were overgrown with trees that bore rustling, silver leaves.

Lauren began to absentmindedly hum as she often did, but soon couldn't help but break out into spontaneous song.

"I was movin', and groovin', and dancin' to the beat, when someone behind meh, turned around and shouted 'Pleh that faounkeh mewzic waat boy! Pleh that faounkeh mewzic riiite! Pleh that faounkeh mewzic waat boy... lay down the boogie and pleh that fonkey music 'tiw you daai!"

"'Till you die!" Nicole replied in the proper high-pitched disco-voice.

Lauren and Nicole burst into laughter, as Quinn walked behind, not quite understanding the inside joke. "Despite the fact that that was pretty good, I thought you said no excessive noise?"

"Only when we tell you," Lauren said.

"And I guess you can talk right now," Nicole added.

"Thank you for granting me permission, your Highnesses," he said sarcastically.

Lauren decided to try and be nicer. It was taking too much energy to continuously be rude and snappy towards Quinn, even though (from what she had heard) he was a bit... well, yea. Typical guy; grows faster but matures slower than chicks, so perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt and not take nature's evolutionary mishaps out on him. She could do that, easy. "You're welcome." Being polite was the first step, right? Right. Even if her reply was sincere, he scoffed to himself anyways.

And the three continued on like that for a very long time, hyperactively singing old seventies and early eighties songs until the first light of morning. Quinn even sang one that he knew. As the sky became stained with a pinkish orange, Lauren rode on to a hilltop about a half-mile ahead. When the other two joined her, it was dawn, and the trio proceeded to watch the sun rise.

"I think we're halfway there. If we don't stop at all, I think we could make it to the foothills after nightfall," Lauren said, looking at the mountains again.

Quinn sat down on a rock and massaged his heel. "If I had known I'd be walking from one end of the world to the other, I would've asked Gabriel to grant me a pair of Nike's. My feet hurt_so_ bad," he griped. Lauren felt a tad sorry for him, but found it a little amusing watching him suffer at the same time. She was a somewhat disappointed to see Nicole dismount (with grace) and stand there, seeming to wait for Quinn to say something. "You're such a girl. Get on."

He glanced around dramatically, a grin spreading on is stupid face. "Here? Now?" He pointed to the ground in front of him.

Nicole said flatly, "Get on the horse."

"Oh." Dissed and dismissed!

He got on much easier than Lauren would ever have thought. She was now thoroughly convinced that horses and their saddles were unanimously against her.

As Lauren predicted, the second time, they reached the base of the mountains about an hour or two after dark. Quinn began to complain again at how much his feet hurt, after having to get off the horse at around noon and walk again. Lauren was beginning to regret ever bringing him along.

"At least he won't go eating all of our food," Lauren said to Nicole in a hushed whisper as Quinn went to take a leak.

"I wouldn't be so sure..."

As if on cue, Quinn came back to where they were situated. "I'm hungry."

Those two simple words made Lauren lose her cool for some reason. Maybe it was she thought that he still didn't get it. She stood up and confronted him. "Look, '_messenger of God_', we only have so much food. If you're the only one eating, it'll probably only last us until we get to Dunland if you eat one a day." Luckily she hadn't eaten any yet, and now she didn't really plan to. "After that you'll have to either hunt, or ask for food if we run into anyone. And I **refuse **to let you ask **anything **of the Wild Men."

Quinn looked surprised, a little scared, and a little hurt. "What am I supposed to eat then?"

"I don't know. You should think of this sort of thing before you go barging into other people's fandoms."

Nicole, however, seemed to be thinking about something else. She quietly walked up to the two and put a finger to her lips to shut them up. She looked around the trees in the dark. "I think it would be a good idea if we were a little quieter," she said in a low voice.

Lauren looked at her like she'd said the stupidest thing in the world, but after a few minutes of silence, she knew what she was talking about. _Exactly _what she was talking about. Lauren brushed aside her bangs and strained to see anything else through the trees, but her eyes saw nothing. Quinn wrapped himself up in the cloak and put the hood on to cover his light up more. "Anyone sleeping tonight?" Lauren whispered. She got a maybe from both of them. "Then I think we should start having watches." They nodded.

"What exactly is going on?" Quinn asked in a whisper as well.

"Being an angel, I would think that you could feel when you're being watched and the like, Quinn," Lauren replied.

"...What do you mean?" Lauren could tell he was getting scared.

"Orcs, you dolt. Wandering the wilderness to hide from people hunting them down."

"Why are they here, though?"

"They're everywhere," Nicole said. "But they're dispersed, because (like we already said) Sauron and his posse of Nazgul are long gone."

"Oh."

Suddenly the horses came up to them and began to hurriedly nuzzle their owners. "And you need to stop asking questions, because it appears we have company." Lauren drew her sword and put her hood on. The three of them heard the stomping of many feet in the distance, and began to panic. "Alright... alright. I've got a plan," Lauren said quickly as Nicole and Quinn tried to scramble up the same horse. "We do like Bilbo and climb some trees so the orcs won't see us if they're coming this way."

"What about the horses?"

"We let them go, but they'll come back when the danger is passed. Got it?"

"Yea."

"Right."

"Now get going!" Lauren told the horses to come back when they whistled for them, but escape the orcs by whatever means. They snorted and ran off. She joined her companions in scrambling up two sturdy looking oak trees, and Lauren loaned Nicole her cloak to cover up the light colors of her robes. Quinn curled into a little ball on a wide branch, actually doing a pretty good job at being invisible. Lauren figured her ensemble was earthy-toned enough as it was.

The three of them waited in fearful silence high up in the trees as the pounding footsteps drew nearer, and harsh cries could be heard.

"What do we do if the horses don't come back?" The muffled voice of Quinn could be heard a few branches away. He was answered with two harsh, yet quiet 'SHUT UP!'s from the two girls.

Lauren listened as hard as her two still human ears could. Was it her, or did the feet seem to be moving away from them? "I think they might be going into the mountains..."

"_Where_ into the mountains? Moria is still like a hundred miles away," Lauren heard Nicole whisper.

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound like they're coming North anymore... more like East."

"Let's just wait a little longer, okay?" Yep. Quinn was freaked out.

And so they waited, Lauren guessed for about fifteen more minutes. The thunderous footsteps had completely died away.

"Before we get down, let me see if I can see anything." Lauren proceeded to climb higher into the tree with the uttermost caution. Tree-climbing was very hard if you couldn't see Jack Shit. She reached the highest branch that could hold her, and poked her head out through the boughs. She looked southward, and could see nothing except for the black mass that was the forest as far as she could see. Not even a faint glow of Rivendell could she spot when facing west. She climbed back down.

"What exactly were you looking for?" Nicole asked.

"Fires."

"Fires? Why fires?" She heard Quinn say.

"If they stopped instead of going into the mountains, they would have camped. And if they camped, they would've made a fire. And since I saw no such thing, they probably _did _go into the mountains as first was speculated."

"Right."

"Now let's get down before we're eaten alive by these gnats and mosquitos."

"Actually, guys, I don't, uh, I don't mind sleeping in a tree..." Quinn was not convinced that danger was past them.

"He really is a pussy, huh?" Lauren murmured to Nicole who nodded in agreement. "It's fine now, Quinn. As long as you don't fall and kill yourself again there's nothing to worry about for the time being." She nimbly found her way down the tree, and whistled. Luckily Thinroch and Miril hadn't gone too far off, noticing that the orcs were still a distance away.

"You can share a horse with me," Nicole said, approaching her mount. "We can't afford to leave you behind if we need to make a quick getaway." They proceeded to get on as Lauren was already to go.

"It would be best if we stayed moving as long as any of us can take it, now that we know orcs are still abroad."

"Good point," Nicole said.

"Luckily we don't get tired easily, and same with the horses."

"I don't know if I get tired here, because I don't get tired in heaven, but I got somewhat hungry here, and I don't normally get hungry in heaven..." Quinn said.

"Well, I guess you could have our Lembas, because we don't need to eat. Let's go."

They were off yet again, but this time it didn't seem like a good dream anymore. It was reality, or at least now it was, and she had no interest in ending up in Purgatory again so quickly.

The night crept by in eerie silence as none of them dared to speak, in desperate hopes of passing by the group of orcs without being noticed. And it seemed to Lauren that it worked, for they reached morning without any harm.

And so they traveled like that for two days straight, and growing all the more comfortable again along the way, until by the closing of the second day they talked and sang again without fear of being heard by unfriendly ears.

"Hey, Nicole. Looks like your acne is clearing up finally," Lauren said as she chewed on a leaf.

"Really? That's awesome. You know? Is it me, or is your hair longer than it was when we first got here?"

"Hmm." Lauren brushed her bangs aside again. "I think you're right. I never remembered having them grow past my eyes like this... d'you think it's some side effect of being issued new bodies? Perfect skin and hair that grows an inch a week?"

"It probably is," Quinn added. "I've noticed it. Your freckles are fading a little too."

"My freckles?" Lauren murmured, touching her cheek. "But I like my freckles... I'll look awful without them."

"You probably won't notice much if it's gradual like that," Nicole suggested.

"Eh, you're probably right."

Suddenly Lauren felt something whistle past her right cheek, just barely grazing the skin. She jerked her head to the left, and spun around in the saddle. "The fuck was..." her eyes widened with a gasp. "**_DUCK_**!" She shouted to Quinn and Nicole behind her as another arrow whizzed past them, barely missing the boy. They heard something bark out an order in a horrible gnashing language from the trees behind them as four dark figures appeared in the green.

Lauren's first thought was, in fact, a long string of obscenities before anything productive came to mind. The first thing she did was jump off the horse and draw her sword, Nicole and Quinn doing the same, sans swords.

"Whatdowedo... whatdowedo..." Nicole said, scrambling for her little knife in the pack. Quinn had nothing.

They were outnumbered by one, which was not bad at all, considering only one of the Fellowship (of nine) died during an assault by _one hundred_ enemies. Those were fantastic odds! Perhaps she could utilize some previous knowledge of how to deal with these sort of situations she learned from TV... Wit! Wit was a formidable weapon in these humorous occurrences. Or perhaps it was the wit that made them humorous...

With the orcs coming closer, Lauren blurted out the first thing that came to mind, to perhaps confuse her enemies. "CHILI-CHEESE FRIES!"

It seemed to work. The orcs stopped and looked at her as if she had gone senile, but unfortunately her own comrades did the same.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Nicole hissed.

The orcs just laughed. "The crazy ones were always the most fun to eat alive," one of them said in a disgusting manner typical of orcs. He had a British accent, of course.

Sadly, wit did not come as easily as she thought in these situations, and all of the one-liners she could come up with, all were corny beyond belief, so she decided to shut up and try her hand as swordplay.

"Bring it," Lauren growled and tried to look as formidable as she could, the sword gripped tightly between nervous hands and her feet planted firmly on the ground. She lunged forward in a feeble attempt to bring one down, but as ridiculous as it sounds, the orcs were better at fighting than her. The head one simply stepped out of the way and she fell face first into the dirt at their feet. Crap.

One of their wet and smelly hands grabbed the back of her tunic and hoisted her up, pulling her a little too close to his face. Lauren's stomach reeled. His breath smelled like curdled milk and dog shit.

"Please don't breathe on me," she coughed. "Your breath smells really, really bad." He smiled all gross-like and opened his mouth wide, sending out two lung-fulls of air right in her face. Lauren gagged as he held his rusty knife up to her jugular, and pressed it into the skin a little too much for her liking. But suddenly his grip on her loosened followed by some cursing in the Black Tongue. Lauren used this window of opportunity to escape from the clutches of these fiends before the others could spring on her, though they tried, but she regrouped with Nicole and Quinn. A quick glance was all that she needed to know who threw the stone, and Quinn already had another one poised in the palm of his hand, and alongside him was Nicole with a rather large stick. Where was the knife?

Though for most of her life she had always been the "tough chick", and after becoming a Lord of the Rings fan, she always thought if the situation called for it, she would go and kill orcs without hesitation. But now that she was faced with a situation that could very well call for it, killing had a whole other meaning.

"Plan?" Nicole asked, her knuckles white from holding the stick too tightly. Anxious and scared? Hell yes.

"Get away safely by whatever means possible?"

"Good plan... good plan..."

"Enough of this!" One of the orcs snarled, and the rest grunted in agreement. One went to take care of Nic and Quinn, whilst three of them came at Lauren, probably because she was acting like such a retard.

_Okay... okay... what do you know about sword fighting... Well, there was that scene in the Fellowship when Boromir was showing Pippin how to fight, but... _But Lauren's train of thought was interrupted when a sword was planning on coming down on her hard from above, so she quickly blocked it with a defensive posture. Not exactly thinking, and with three orcs surrounding her, she began to try and fight them._Swipe... block... block... jab... slash... block... duck... swipe... evade... block... slash. _That was what it was like in general, occasionally interrupted by a stone being thrown by Quinn, and a warcry from Nicole. _Duck... move... stab... swipe. Yes!_ She finally hit one of them, but there was no time for a victory dance, seeing as HUGE BLOODY the gash on the orc's upper arm didn't hinder him one bit. She shouted out a curse word as a rusty blade planted itself into her arm as well, and the aggressor laughed and continued to attack. The adrenaline didn't help much in dulling the mind-numbing pain that wracked her entire arm every time she swung, but it was either that or, well, death.

To her surprise and immeasurable relief, one of the orcs fell to the ground with a strangled cry as a particularly large rock hit him square in the back of the head. Quinn and Nicole (armed with a new stick and more rocks) ran to Lauren's side, there being two orcs left.

But having completely forgotten about Miril and Thinroch, she almost jumped out of her skin when the two horses suddenly came back to the fray, and kicked the living daylights out of the last two.

"NOW they come and help us!" Nicole cried in frustration.

"Be glad that they were here at all!" Quinn said, stepping around the four unconscious orcs. Or at least she thought they were unconscious; one was bleeding in the head. Well, three unconscious orcs... but that was still three too many.

"What do we do with these three?" Lauren asked, shaking a little.

"What I want to know is where they came from," Quinn said, taking a closer look at the foul things.

"You know what? I'll bet that they were a part of that party we saw back there and they were sent to stalk us," Nicole speculated.

"But if they were following us for two days and we didn't realize it, then there's a good chance that there's more..." Lauren said, almost talking to herself.

The three of them just stood there and said nothing.

Lauren gulped. "Uhm... did you guys suddenly get a feeling of impending doom?"

"Ye-hes," both of them said in unison. They were silent again, listening for anything, but there was only the whisper of leaves in the gentle breezes and the song of birds.

Lauren cleared her throat. "So if we leave them here, they might wake up in a little while and, you know, seek wrathful revenge all orc-like."

Quinn eyed her, and said: "Are you suggesting we... kill them while they're still unconscious?"

"Not in so many words... but yes. I'd like to refer to it as _disposal_. 'Kill' is such a grotesque word," she said, a hint of unease in her voice. "But the way I look at is: either them, or us."

"Them..."

"Definitely them."

Lauren inhaled sharply, looking down at the pitiful, misshapen things sprawled out on the grassy ground. She looked hopefully at Nicole and Quinn, but both of them backed away, shaking their heads. "It's your idea. Do your own dirty work," Nicole said.

"Fine," Lauren mumbled, standing over one of the bodies, positioning the tip of her sword over his stomach. She closed her eyes, and... _stab!_ The blade embedded itself into the rotting flesh as cleanly as possible without any sickening crunches or snapping; just a mushy, squishy sound as she filled some of the orc's vital organs with a few holes. She partially opened one eye to look at her handiwork, but quickly closed it again at the sound of Quinn upchucking some of his Lembas. Lauren's own stomach turned a bit as Quinn's sound effects were not helping at all.

"That has to be the most disgusting thing I have ever done, or ever plan to do," Lauren griped. Quinn was recovering from the initial shock.

"Well, you better plan on doing it some more because you still have two left," Nicole said, trying not to look as she patted the angel's back.

She shot a look at her Elven friend. "Seriously: don't remind me."

"Hurry up... We better get going..."

So once again, closing her eyes shut and hoping Quinn did the same, she proceeded to put the orcs out of their misery. In between the... whatever it was that Lauren was doing (killing unfairly, she supposed) she heard Nicole mutter: "It's the Alien vs. Predator gig all over again." And it was promptly followed with more vomiting from Quinn.

All of a sudden Nicole gave a cry of pain and Lauren turned to see her hunched over, clutching her shoulder. There was a gurgling laughter from her left, and another arrow whistled past her.

"Fucking hell! Don't you guys ever die!" Lauren sped over to the orc in a zig-zag fashion, to lessen the risk of getting hit. Luckily, all he had was the bow. Quinn lobbed another stone at the orc, which hit him in the back and knocked him forward a bit, throwing him off-balance. Without thinking much, Lauren tensed up and swung at it from the side, and her sword embedded itself in the orc's arm. She could have sheared the limb right off had the bone not been there. The orc cried out, and dropped the bow, using his other good arm to hit Lauren square in the jaw. She unstuck her weapon and hacked at his other side, then snatched up the bow before he could grab it. He glanced at the ground behind her, probably eying a discarded sword.

"Don't you dare," Lauren snarled, tossing the bow behind her and doing her best to ignore the pain. To her dismay, the orc reached behind him and brandished a rusty dagger.

Then, without thinking at all this time in a sudden fit of rage, she gathered her remaining strength and swung again, cutting through a good portion of the orc's neck. It toppled to the ground and Lauren had to dislodge the blade from it's flesh. With a single stroke for each, she hewed off the orc's arms as well. "That'll teach you to hold a weapon ever again," she muttered. Lauren stood up again but after a minute, seeming to snap out of her crazed bloodthirst and return to reality with a hard fall. Looking at the orc's body, she gasped and backed away with horror as if it were someone else's handiwork. What had happened? She took another shaky step back, looking at Nicole and Quinn who had stopped short of themselves, strange looks on their faces.

"Lauren?" Nicole asked in a low voice, as if she wasn't sure that it was her friend that stood in front of her at all. She still clutched the slight wound on her shoulder. "You okay?"

The girl blinked. "Yeah. I just... I didn't know I could... do that." She remained standing where she was, staring at the bodies on the ground for a few more minutes.

Nicole approached Lauren. "Come on. We should clean you up. You look disgusting."

Lauren was suddenly aware of the screaming pain in her opened arm, and the dark redness seeping through her torn sleeve. Fortunately, the adrenaline had dulled it almost completely for a few moments, but that chemical was draining from her system and the endorphins hadn't kicked in yet. On top of that, her good arm was already beginning to hurt from flailing around with a goddamned heavy sword.

"Let's get out of here first."

Lauren proceeded to clean her blade and sheath it, then picked up the orcish bow. She took the half-empty quiver of arrows off the back of one of the orcs and strapped it onto her own back. She didn't think Nicole or Jesus-boy would know how to use it well enough to risk wasting what precious few arrows were left.

"I think it might be a good time to use this..." Nicole said, looking down at the pouch Glorfindel had slipped in their pack.

Lauren studied her wound closely; she might have been able to pass it off as a dog mauling? "My arm hurts so bad... Ugh. It's all bleeding everywhere. And that shit stains..."

Quinn took at the bag and briefly looked inside. "How do we use it?"

"I'm... not sure."

"Let me see..." Quinn came over to Lauren and looked closely at the gaping wound, holding onto her arm. Strangely enough, it seemed that the pain went away completely as soon as Quinn's hands came in contact with the exposed skin around the wound. "Nicole! Take a look at this!" he almost squealed, letting go of Lauren's arm. But as soon as he let go, the pain came back almost as fast and hard as it did when she received the blow.

"Shit! Put your hands back! Put them back!" Lauren demanded. Nicole was at her side, Quinn returned his hands to her arm, and in no time the same anesthetic feeling crept through her veins, completely numbing the appendage.

"Oh my fucking god!" Nicole burst out.

"What? What?" Lauren looked down at her arm and saw what was happening. Quinn's hands were glowing especially bright as they worked away at healing the wound. Before her very eyes the skin had healed and closed, leaving a only blood on the surface.

The three of them stared for a little while, and Lauren wiped the blood with her sleeve to reveal whole skin underneath, the only mark left behind being a long, thin scar.

Quinn slowly let go, but the three of them continued to stare in disbelief for a few moments before Nicole suddenly jumped on him in a big hug. "I love you Quinn! You saved Lauren!" she squealed.

He returned the hug after a moment. "Did I? I did... didn't I?" He looked at Nicole with a gasp. "And you love me?"

She stepped away and stood next to Lauren. "Uh, platonic love. I know it's a big word, but say it with me: pluh-tah-nick."

The young man just sighed dejectedly.

"I'm not going to hug you, but I will say thanks. And as Narthas would say: You're quite the asset to this rag-tag crew of harmlessly loud-mouthed cohorts."

"Who's Narthas?" Quinn asked.

"No one you know, or ever will know. I'll draw him for you sometime." Lauren paused. "Shouldn't it be Nicole's turn?"

Quinn glanced at Nicole, and was aware of her shoulder again. "Oh. Right." He went over to her, and put his hand on the arrow wound. Luckily, the tip and shaft had only grazed the skin, and in an instant, Nicole was healed as well.

Lauren called the horses and the three of them mounted, and continued on their way and a quick trot, wanting to leave the memory of slaughter behind them in the clearing.

A few hours passed and was filled with mindless chit-chat, when Nicole took out the map, and examined it closely. Suddenly Nicole burst out. "Look! Lauren! Quinn, look!"

"What?"

"Straight ahead; see that part of the mountain that comes down like that?" She pointed to a particularly long foothill in the distance.

Lauren squinted in a southerly direction. "What about it?"

"I thought you would know. But it's Hollin on the other side!"

"Really? We're come that far?" The girl blinked and smiled.

"Fuck yeah we have."

"Augh, fuck. Gondor is still a shit long ways away."

"What's in Hollin?" Quinn asked.

"It's the land just north of Moria's West Gate."

"Moria..." Quinn mumbled, obviously searching his memory for the familiar term. "Moria... you mean that dark cavern place that the fellowship went into with that fire monster thing in it? **Please** don't tell me we're going there."

"Two things, Quinn," Lauren began, counting points on her fingers. "One, Gandalf killed the Balrog in the first book. Two, it was probably purged of goblins after the war and three, even possibly reclaimed by the Dwarves after that."

"Yeah, or not," Quinn put in.

Lauren sighed and rolled her eyes.

But Nicole brought up another point. "Hey, wasn't the West Gate destroyed by the watcher?"

"Well, that will be a good test then, won't it? If there's still rubble there at the West Gate, then we steer clear of Moria and take the road through the Gap. If it's clean, we investigate."

"Yeah, but if we go through the Gap, then we won't be able to separate in Lorien like we'd hoped..."

"Well... it's not like we don't have forever to go see Lorien, right? Worst case scenario is we meet up there at a later date."

Nicole bobbed her head from side to side in consideration. "Hmm, yeah, that would work."

"All right then, can we go now?"

"What, got ants in your pants?" Quinn said.

Lauren shot him a look. "That was a joke my mom would have cracked when I was 5. Let's get going."  



	3. On Scary Places

"How long have you two been here?" Quinn asked.

The two girls paused. It hadn't been that long since she first found herself in the White Room, gotten changed, and transported right into the heart of Middle-earth. It was all very exciting business.

"I'd say a few days, not a week, but more than a couple," Lauren said, readjusting herself in the saddle.

"You seem to know what you're doing.. I thought you've been here at least a week or two," he said, looking at the ground.

Lauren laughed; Quinn and Nicole looked at her. "What? I think it's funny that we already know how to get by around here without even living here."

The other two burst out laughing. "So true!" Nicole said.

"We're hard ex core fans."

"Oh yeah. You know it."

"Every day."

The members of the three-man company carried on in silence for a few minutes, before Quinn broke in. "Don't you think we would go faster if we were all on horses?"

Lauren and Nicole glanced at each other, and then Quinn walking in between them.

"Yeah?"

"Uh... yes?"

"He rides with you," Lauren said to her fellow equine enthusiast. Nicole shrugged, and stopped her horse. Quinn scrambled on behind her, and Lauren noted how uncomfortable it looked, trying to fit two people in one saddle. Oh well. Maybe Nic and her could ride Miril for a while later.

"C'mon," Lauren said. "Let's see how much horsepower these guys have." With that, she dug her heels into Miril's sides, and the horse neighed loudly before cantering off down the path. She heard Thinroch follow suit.

"Yeah!" Lauren called out to no one and nothing in particular. She felt immortal and immaculate as trees and ground flew past her, the warm summer air kissing her cheek.

And yeah, they certainly did cover more ground much faster.

It was about an hour later they reached the arm of the mountain that Nicole mentioned in the previous chapter, and the horses tirelessly flew up the gentle slope and down the other side fifteen minutes later.

Miril halted herself at the top of a hill, and Thinroch, carrying Nicole and a flustered Quinn, stopped next to Lauren shortly after.

Lauren looked out over the open landscape before them. "Welcome to Hollin," she said, gazing out over the rolling hills and dead grass and hardy shrubs and trees that dotted the desolate. Miril neighed and snorted, shaking her head, before bolting down the hill. She must've been glad to see the ground so dry and uncluttered with undergrowth.

Miril raced across the firm ground with astonishing speed, and Thinroch gained speed. It seemed that the two horses were racing each other. Lauren made a comical face that was intended to be intimidating, but Nicole laughed and did the same as the steeds went neck to neck.

Lauren took the reigns and wove through the trees and the horse seemed to like the challenge her rider was giving her. Dirt and clumps of dead grass were kicked up as she skillfully cut sharp corners.

The day was growing old and they stopped at a small brook for the horses before continuing again at a leisurely pace.

"We'll probably pass the West-gate tomorrow," Lauren said.

"Pass? We're not going to check it out?" Nicole asked.

"I think it's a great idea," Quinn said with a wide grin.

"Uh... pass, check out... same difference," Lauren said. "Unless you want to gallop on over there and get there after dark."

There was a short pause, the only noise from any of them being the quiet guttural "uhhhhh" that was the telltale sign of nervous uncertainty.

"...or we could wait until daylight?"

"Good idea."

They trotted along for a but more until it got dusk settled on them. They made a fire and threw the bedrolls out to sit on, and they talked and laughed and sang until the first light of dawn came peering out over the mountains.

Once they were packed, the sky was light but the sun wasn't out quite yet. They galloped away south in silence, none of them wanting to shake the gentle hand of morning. But about an hour later they found their way into a gully close to the mountains, and Quinn was getting a little nervous.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" He asked quietly, looking up and up at the steep rocky walls of the gully.

"How many times do you need to ask that?" Lauren snapped, and finished it off by hissing a 'yes, we are'.

"But.." Quinn almost squeaked. "The map doesn't go into this much detail. Are you sure we're supposed to be going through a canyon like this? I mean, the walls don't look like the most solid things ever, and this path isn't very wide, and what if there's–"

"Quinn. Just stop." Lauren was getting frustrated with him. But he was vital to their survival as a company, so they had to keep him. Besides... when he wasn't bitching and whining, he did make pretty good conversation. "I promise this is the right way."

"Lauren's got a good sense of direction," Nicole reassured.

"God, I hope so..."

But Lauren had stopped paying attention a few sentences before. "Guys! Look! There!" She pointed down the canyon.

"What?" Quinn asked, squinting. "All I see is more rock."

"That's where the gully lets out. Note how close to the mountains we are," she said, pointing up at the grey, craggy peaks of stone that rose hundreds of feet into the air just to the left of them. "This is how close we want to be."

They continued in eerie silence, the hoof beats echoing endlessly against the earthen walls. Gravel kicked up a little dust as they drew near to the outlet, and the path grew broader too.

And suddenly, after almost an hour of being in the narrow, dark space of the gulch, the sun fell on their faces and they saw a great, grey basin of stones that hugged the wall of the mountain, and the stream that made the gully suddenly sprang from the rocks and scurried down the gentle slope into a wide lake in the middle of the basin.

The horses continued quietly and a strange hush fell over them. A gentle breeze whistled through the stones and earth that blew little ripples on the water. But all was dead silent, save for the sound of gravel underfoot.

"What's that?" Nicole whispered and pointed to the far side of the lake. Lauren gazed and squinted as she saw what appeared to be two rocks placed at the edge of the gently lapping water nearest to the mountain wall. But as she looked and looked some more, Lauren saw that each shape was identical, and seemed to be a little to ornate to be natural. They were squat looking things, like small towers only a few feet tall and nearly a foot at the base.

"I don't know," Lauren replied, eyes still fixed on the bizarre structures.

It only took the company a few minutes to reach them; Lauren dismounted to get a better look at the details of the miniature towers. "They look like memorials," she said at length.

"To what?" She heard Quinn ask.

"Not sure..." she replied. Then squatting down, she saw a tiny block of script near the bottom that she couldn't read. Then suddenly, it hit her. "Dwarves!" she half-shouted, half-whispered. "Dwarves made these to show that Moria is under their rule again."

Nicole bent over to look at the almost indiscernible symbols, and Quinn did the same. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "That's Angerthas if I ever saw it."

The three stood up and looked around. Lauren didn't recognize anything. The lake looked the same all the way around except for the mountain behind them. "The holly trees that marked the gate are gone, obviously, but..."

"The gate was destroyed by the watcher too, so... where the hell is it?" Nicole finished. The three of them turned around and looked up at the grey cliff face before them.

"I guess we have to find it."

Lauren was the first to step forward and up to the face of the rock itself. When her face was about a foot away from the stone, she noticed lines carved into the rock. Tiny, even, lines. She looked to her right and they seemed to continue as far as she could see. She looked to the left and, with her fingers trailing along them, noticed that they suddenly all made a sharp, ninety-degree turn either up or down. The rock face to the left of that was blank until she saw a set of three lines running vertically about four feet from the others. Lines did the same on the other side. Lauren followed the set of three down to the ground and saw, about six inches from the dirt and gravel, a small square the lines made. One inch by one inch, she guessed.

"I think we've got ourselves a door," she announced to the others who were also inspecting the strange lines engraved in the wall.

"Really?" Quinn said and rushed over to Lauren's side. Nicole flanked the other.

Lauren gently blew on the square, perhaps to clear the dust off the thing to see if there was anything else hidden. There was nothing.

"Should we try the old password?" Nicole asked.

"Be my guest," Lauren replied.

Nicole stood up, and took a few steps back from the supposed door. With a deep, breath, she said in a clear voice: "_Mellon_!"

To the company's dismay, it did not follow through like in the books, or even in the movie. The Ithildin didn't shine, a doorway wasn't outlined, and a gate certainly did not open. Everything was still and silent, and the breeze blew again. The three of them sighed after a few moments.

"There's gotta be a door."

"Maybe there isn't."

"But there has to be. The gate was repaired, as you can see, and obviously Dwarves were here: they built the monuments-" Lauren gestured to the towers behind them, "-they carved the lines, cleared the debris, and killed the watcher."

"But maybe that's just it," Quinn said. "Maybe all of this _is _just a monument, and Moria is still a scary place deep inside. There was no re-taking. There was just a clean-up after all the damage to make it look pretty on the outside. Maybe the Dwarves cleaned up and left."

Lauren sighed, and considered that what this outsider was trying to tell her. Perhaps there were no Dwarves here. Perhaps they would have to keep going south, through Dunland, and out through the Gap of Rohan. They'd have to pass Isengard, and follow the White Mountains east until they got to Gondor. For some reason, that trip seemed boring.

"Dude. Maybe he's right," Nicole said.

"I need to check first."

"Huh?"

Lauren didn't reply as she went back down to the mysterious square that had captured her curiosity a few minutes before. She looked it over, glanced up the lines, and back down at the square. Then, as if she had just thought of it, she reached up and gently touched the tip of her index finger to the middle of the geometric shape. She gasped when the stone yielded to the touch and the square sank into the rock. Lauren jumped up like a cat and went to the relative safety of her two friends.

"What the hell did you do?" Nicole asked.

"Look!" Lauren pointed to a square hole where a small piece of stone was. She watched as the lines that encased the door deepened and it suddenly divided down the middle, and swung outwards without a noise, revealing darkness.

"And the world was fair in Durin's day..." Lauren murmured as she watched the gate open without blinking.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look."

The three of them just huddled together, none of them wanting to make the first move into the dark.

"What do we do?"

"Should we go in?"

"I don't think standing here is going to do us any good."

"Well one of you check it out."

"It looks clean."

"No bodies."

"I think Lauren should check it out."

"Yeah, you have a sword."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You can defend yourself."

"Yeah. Go on."

Lauren was shoved over the threshold. She drew her sword and held it in both hands, looking around. A shudder dripped down her spine as she looked up the staircase as it ascended into pitch blackness. It was really frickin creepy. With a sudden burst of courage, she climbed up the first few steps and looked up, staying perfectly silent, listening. For anything.

Suddenly, she froze. What was that? Far up into the darkness she heard a distant noise, like pitter-pattering. The back of her neck got tingly and her breath hitched and grew short. It was getting too creepy. She listened and listened, and the noise sounded like it was slowly getting louder.

Lauren bolted out from the dark foyer of Moria and was shaking.

"What? What?"

"I... I heard something. I think we should go. Or hide and wait it out."

The other two went silent. Dread was smeared over their faces, and the three bolted out of the open, back to the rocks near the gully. And they waited, telling the horses to get out of sight.

It was a while before they heard anything. The noise echoed in the open gate, but they saw nothing from where they hid. Lauren had her hood thrown on, and Quinn was huddled on the ground.

Suddenly, three little figures came out of the gate, and the three kids froze. Ear one had a spear twice as tall as he, and they held them out offensively as they checked out the area. Trying to figure out who opened their gate. Who the bloody hell opened the gate...

But Lauren cocked her head to the side as she saw they were each wearing cloaks. She knitted her brows and realized who they were.

She jumped out from behind the rock, and broke into a run towards the door and three armed figures.

"Lauren! What the hell are you doing!" Nicole shouted after her.

She shot across the gravel, waving her arms at the stunted figures who took up defensive positions as she approached them. As soon as the very sharp, pointy end of a spear was shoved in the general direction of her jugular, she halted and held up her hands. She was so relieved to find that they were Dwarves instead of goblins.

"State yer name," one of the Dwarves snarled in a very deep, rough voice. "And be quick about it!"

Shit, Lauren thought. She hadn't even considered the need to take up a Tolkien-esque name, and now she needed one. Think quickly.

"Laurelin of Dol Amroth," she said shakily. Laurelin was the name of the golden tree of Valinor, and it sounded enough like her own, and Dol Amroth was where Narthas had lived for a few centuries. It was one of her favorite lands in Gondor.

It was about then that Lauren heard Nicole and Quinn approach and halt next to her as they saw the weapons.

The foremost of the three Dwarves grunted in the back of his throat. "And what would yer business be in Moria?"

Lauren paused for a minute, thinking perhaps that one of her two companions would have anything to say. But of course, they expected her to do the talking.

"We were, uh.." She just then remembered that she needed to talk like a Middle-earthian. "We thought to pass through Moria for our destination was the Anduin Valley."

The Dwarves lowered their spears. "Why not take the Redhorn Pass?"

"We do not know the way, and we heard of Dwarves that had re-taken Moria."

The Dwarf grunted in the back of his throat, eyeing the small company of three, carefully and suspiciously. After a moment, he barked something to the other two in their Dwarf-language –Lauren had forgotten what in the hell it was called– and turned his attention back to them.

"If ya must," he said gruffly and turned to go back up inside the gate, expecting them to follow, Lauren assumed. So they did.

"I don't want to go in there," Quinn whispered to the two girls when they approached the dark stairs of the Moria gate. "It's really dark." One could tell he wasn't just being an ass this time: he was genuinely scared.

Lauren and Nicole both replied by staying silent, and followed: Lauren first, of course. The Dwarves disappeared up in the darkness, and suddenly, it began to grow dark. The three turned around to see the gate closing behind them, and with it went the light. The company gave a sort of frightened cry and raced up the stairs to catch up with the Dwarves.

Lauren could hear them, that was for sure. They made a lot of racket when they walked, and they talked in harsh voices too. The only part that made following them difficult was the fact that their noises seemed to ECHO FROM EVERYWHERE.

But as Lauren, Nicole, and Quinn continued to shuffle along in the dusty dark, Lauren's eyes adjusted.

But suddenly Quinn squealed and clung to Nicole. "What was that!" he yelled in a terrified whisper, pointing to the blackness behind them.

It was a clattering noise that was gaining on them, and Lauren began to shake again. She was sure the blood had drained from her face. "Quinn, take off t-the cloak so I-I can't s-see... j-just do it-t..."

Quinn whimpered in fear as he removed Lauren's cloak from his shoulders, his faint light completely illuminating the darkness. She was almost scared to see anything there, but there was nothing, and the noise continued to grow louder. She drew her sword and held it defensively out in front of her.

The three continued walking slowly with Lauren behind them now (she was always the one to be thrust forward at the prospect of danger), holding out her sword, eyes wide and looking for something. Suddenly she half mumbled, half squealed something incoherent and the other two clung beside her as they saw two dark figures emerge from the pitch behind them. It was clear that the shadowy silhouettes were not human in any way, and they made the clattering noise as they walked.

Quinn yelped in terror and they started to run, but the two monsters picked up their pace. The Dwarves seemed to be far ahead.

Lauren was almost sure they were going to die.

Again.

That is, until one of the monsters neighed.

The three of them stood silent, not quite sure of the nosie they just heard. Then one of the shadowy monsters became more clear, and the clattering noise became discernable hoof beats on stone.

"They followed us!" Nicole exclaimed. "The insane equines followed us!"

Lauren just stared in disbelief as the horses came nearer, Quinn and Nicole petting them out of sheer relief. She looked behind her and noticed that the Dwarves were far ahead. Perhaps a little too far ahead.

"Guys..."

The two continued to pamper the steeds.

"Guys! I... think we lost the Dwarves."

The three of them stopped and listened, hearing almost nothing. They could hear them far off in the distance, but there was no way they would be able to find them now.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Nicole shamelessly hissed.

"Alright guys, don't panic. There's only two ways through Moria... and that's down, or out."

"And why am I not comforted," Quinn muttered sarcastically.

"Look. There's gotta be more Dwarves here. There can't be just those three," Nicole said, trying to reason.

"Right," was all Lauren managed to say and she looked up and about her for the first time. It was very, very dark, but the ground was flat and sloping at a bit of an incline. She looked up, but the ceilings were too high to see. "It's not going to do us any good just standing here, guys." With that, Lauren started walking out into the mines.

She heard the other four follow her as she went, sword still in hand, ready to conquer the darkness. She walked straight, even though she could see the even darker spots in the wall that led into other lightless chambers. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end each time she passed a doorway, fearing that some unseen terrifying thing would reach out and grab her.

They walked on a bit like this, but the rooms on either side of them ceased and the hallway began to broaden. Lauren heard things, and her heart jumped. She knew it was Dwarves... but where were they? Many, many voices and conversations and laughter could be heard from somewhere deep in the rock, but she couldn't tell if it was to her right, left, or ahead, or below or above her. The mines were just so disorienting.

Lauren, Quinn and Nicole continued in complete silence for probably twenty minutes. Until they came to a crossroads.

"Which way now?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Use your nose."

"Yeah. Like Gandalf."

"I don't have a functioning olfactory system."

"What?"

"I can't smell."

"Why do we need to smell?"

"Smelling for fresher air."

"But what if the Dwarves don't like fresh air?"

"Yeah. We're looking for Dwarves, not fresh air."

"So forget the nose?"

"Yes."

"Well then which way?"

"Right."

"Left."

"Do eeny, meeny, mynie, moe."

Eeny, meeny, mynie, moe? Oh no, not the infamous decision-making game most practiced by children and prepubescent kids! How could someone leave such an important decision up to a game of chance? Yet, every kid secretly knew that it worked. Even Lauren.

"Alright."

Lauren stood in the middle of the fork, her feet planted firmly in the dusty ground. With an outstretched finger, she began to chant slowly:

"Eeny, meeny, mynie, moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go. Eeny, meeny, mynie... moe."

Her arm and finger pointed unanimously straight in front of her. The decision had been made. The verdict was in, and the judge had read the sentence. They were to proceed straight.

Without a word of compromise, the trio continued onward, down the straight hallway, completely disregarding the existence of two other directions. As far as they knew, this was their only way to go.

They trod on some more, until they were led down a broad staircase. The horses had a bit of a tough time, but they made it to the bottom. It was a great hall held up by massive columns, and they could see it all thanks to Quinn's glow.

"Wow..."

"Listen!" Lauren shushed them all and they pressed their ears to the darkness. "I think we're getting closer," she said. And they continued onward, deeper into the bowels of Moria.

It was probably two hours later, after many staircases, and after several crossroads, did they hear the Dwarves get any louder. They were coming up on another fork in the road, Lauren could seen, but this time just decided to wing it. Without stopping, she made a sharp left and continued down a staircase. She could smell something roasting. They continued through a smaller hall and Lauren stopped them. The hall had an orange glow in the corner, so she went to go check it out. When she wlked up to the orange light coming out of the floor, she saw that it was a tiny hole in the floor, and peered down through it. Far below, she could see many figures and a heap of tables. In the middle of the tables there was a hearth and spit, where some animal was cooking.

"They're right below us!" Lauren exclaimed, and then was shoved out of the way by Nicole who wanted a peep.

"But how do we get there?" Quinn asked. "They could be right below us, but they could also be miles away from us."

Lauren sighed and Nicole took her face away from the floor. "That's true..."

"Let's just go anyway."

Nicole led the way this time, passing through the other doorway at the far end of the hall, and making a right. Lauren, Quinn, and the horses followed.

The next hall they passed through was quite a large one. The ceilings were too high to see, and the massive columns that held it all up went up and up and up. Lauren knew it wasn't Dwarrowdelf, because it didn't seem big enough: they could see the other side clearly. Besides. Dwarrowdelf was somewhere in the middle of Moria, and Moria was a four day walk from one end to the other (assuming the travelers know the way), and they had only been walking for two hours at the most.

...but whatever.

The elf, human, and angel continued to make their way through the 3-dimensional labyrinth that was the mines of Moria. Turn after turn after turn. They climbed up stairs, down stairs, across catwalks and through more hallways. Lauren somehow got the feeling that they were slowly descending.

"Ow! Shit!" Lauren turned around at the sound of Quinn's hissing expletives. If it weren't for his glow, she would never have realized that he stubbed his toe on a rock. "I hate these damn sandals!" he snarled while bent over, rubbing his toe.

He looked like he was in some real pain, so she decided to stop and have a little break. But boy, she was getting thirsty. Too bad Glorfindel didn't pack them water flasks.

It was about right then that Lauren felt something very, very sharp poke into the back of her neck.

"Who are ya?" a deep voice rumbled from behind her. "And how'd ya get in 'ere?"

"W... we were let in by three Dwarves at your West-gate, s-sir," she stumbled.

"Turn around. All'a ya."

Lauren and the rest of her company stood up straight and faced a group of five Dwarves that stood in the hallway. The most prominent of them came up to about Lauren's chin, and had a flaming red beard that matched a pair of flaming brown eyes.

"An elf, a girl from the south, and..." he pointed to Quinn. "What is he?"

"Dammit, Quinn."

"I-I'm an... an ang-" he was abruptly caught off guard by a quick stomp to the foot. "OW."

"He's an Istar," Lauren filled in. Several of the Dwarves gasped.

"An Istar, eh? Ya mean a wizard?"

"Yes, sir."

Through the dim light, Lauren could see the red-bearded Dwarf stroke his chin in deep thought, eyeing them all carefully.

"What business do you three have in Moria?"

"We were passing through to Lorien, and hoped to get some food. We're very low and don't have water flasks."

The Dwarves were silent for another moment. "Ya may come this way." The red-bearded Dwarf said something in their language and two other Dwarves came with him, while two others went the direction they were originally going.

"Where are they taking us?" Quinn said to Lauren in a whisper, barely louder than inaudible.

"I really don't know," she replied as they went deeper and deeper into the dark of Moria.

No one said anything as they walked down the dank, dark corridor. The only noise that could be heard echoing through the blackness was the shuffling of their feet in the dust.

It was about ten minutes later, after walking through hall after corridor, after winding stair that they descended into a great hall. Lauren's mouth dropped open.

The cavern was huge: reminded her of Dwarrowdelf. It had eight massive pillars holding up the cathedral-like vaulted ceilings, and the floor was all marble. In the center of the room, there were two gigantic hearths, the flames of which probably rose to be around six feet high. There were tables strewn about the room, and the hall was filled with voices: laughing, talking, singing. It was a big ol' Dwarf party.

It reminded Lauren of Oktoberfest.

"Hey!" Nicole whispered. "It's the room we saw through the hole in the floor."

"Yes, stupid. I know that."

"How do we get out of here?"

"Yeah. I don't want to stay for too long."

"Let's ask someone."

"A chick dwarf."

"Yeah. They're nicer."

"Alright."

Lauren was once again shoved forward and meant to look for a friendly face to ask for assistance. She nervously walked through the other dwarves and past the fire, when she saw something odd. It was another individual that was taller than the rest of the dwarves, and had curly red hair that just passed the shoulders. It must have been a chick.

"Excuse me?" Lauren said sheepishly.

The person didn't turn around.

"Excuse me?" she repeated, a little louder.

She still didn't answer.

Lauren cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said firmly, tapping her shoulder.

The person whirled around at the physical interaction and Lauren was astounded at what she saw.

"Rebecca?" she said, knowing that the human girl couldn't hear her. She made a series of sounds remotely resembling Lauren's name. "How did you get here?" she mouthed.

Rebecca didn't understand.

Lauren had to conjure up her memory of the sign language alphabet, seeing as there was no access to pen and paper currently. It took her a while, but she managed to sign it out: "What are you doing here?"

Rebecca also signed back in individual letters, her hand gestures transitioning between characters at a painfully slow rate, so Lauren could understand.

"Didnt hear the car come I chose to come to middle-earth and I wound up with the dwarves," she signed, and laughed.

"OMG how did you talk with the dwarves?"

"Talked with writing in the beginning but I taught them ASL and we came up with a version that you can sign in the dark," she said.

"So cool!" Lauren said with her hands and made an excited facial expression. "Im here with my friends and we want to get to Lorien and almost got lost in here can you take us to the Dimrill Dale?"

"Id have to get help."

"Ok cool try ASAP."

"Ok."

Rebecca turned and scanned the room for a minute, looking for someone she knew, Lauren guessed. She followed the deaf girl's eyes with her own, glancing at every face until Rebecca made a noise and hastened forward towards a dwarf at the other end of the hall, leaving Lauren behind. Quinn and Nicole rushed up to her.

"Who the hell is that?" Nicole hissed.

"An old acquaintance."

"Is she deaf?"

"Yeah."

"How can she live in pitch blackness if she can't hear anything?"

"I'm... not sure," Lauren said. "Whatever it is, it seems to be working. Amazing, huh?"

"Chyea."

The trio stood in silence for a few minutes, watching Rebecca sign at lightning speed to one of the Dwarves. Lauren gawked when she saw him promptly reply in quick, seamless sign language. A minute or two later, she came back over to Lauren with the Dwarf.

"She tells me you're friends of hers," he said.

"Uh, yes."

"And that you're looking to pass through Moria?"

"Yessir."

"Well, you're in luck." The three breathed a sigh of relief. "Me an' a few others were needin' to get back to the eastarn gate anyhow. Dagrod n' his company've been needin' to be relieved of their vigil."

"Ah, well, that's always good," Lauren said, trying to fill the air with a response.

"They've been over there for five days; hardly see any dwarves near that end of Moria."

Rebecca broke in with a flutter of gestures, and the dwarf watched patiently. He snorted when she was done.

"I'm sorrey," he said gruffly. "I forgot my mannars. M'name's Filee." He held out a stout hand towards Lauren. She looked down at it for a second and shook it gingerly.

"My name's Lauren—" she caught herself just as she was saying the "n". "Name's Laurelin." She scolded herself on the inside. She HAD to remember that name. That was her Middle-earth name now. She wasn't Lauren anymore. Laurelin. Laurelin.

"Ah. Laurelin. An' who're thayse two?" he asked, pointing to Quinn and Nicole. They looked at each other.

"This is Nisarme, an elf maid, and this is Quinnic, the, uh… the green."

"An Istar, eh?"

"Yessir."

"Haven't seen one o' his kind since the war!"

"Ah, yes, well… Quinnic is still here, and so is Gandalf, I believe—" Lauren was interrupted by a nudge in the side. "What?" she hissed.

"Where's Thinroch and Miril?" Nicole asked in a low voice.

There was a long pause. Lauren cleared her throat.

"Have you seen any horses around here?"

Filee was about to laugh, but Rebecca wanted to know what was going on. He signed to her quickly before turning back to the three. _Then_ he started laughing.

If a boar or bear could laugh, that's what the dwarf sounded like.

"Horses?" he roared.

"They were with us before a company of dwarves intercepted us in a hallway a ways back. We forgot about them after that, and it seems now we misplaced them."

"I din even think the beasts would dare come in here of their own free will!"

"They're elvish horses," Nicole broke in.

"Anyways," Lauren said. "We need them to get to Lorien."

Filee had finally gotten over himself and was wiping away an invisible tear from a creased eye. "If yer horses are indeed in Moria, then don't expect to see 'em again, especially if you can't see 'em right now."

"What!" Nicole burst.

"Look," Lauren said. "Glorfindel trained them. They're smart. REALLY smart. Odds are, they'll probably get to the Dimrill Gate before we do."

Nicole just looked at her. "Yeah, maybe."

Filee cleared his rough throat. "I'll need ta get me men together." The dwarf shoved past Nicole and Quinn and thundered away off down the length of the hall. After a moment, Rebecca waved at Lauren.

"Want something to eat?" she signed.

"We dont get hungry," she replied.

"I forgot!"

Lauren laughed silently.

The four of them stood together for quite a while, listening and watching the other Dwarves party on. It was a pretty sweet setup they had going on… the stability of the place looked fine, and there seemed to be no immediate danger at all. This was probably one of the few havens in Moria, but she guessed they were probably making more every day.

It was a while later –Lauren's feet were getting rather tired— when Filee came back with five other Dwarves and gear. Slung over each of their broad backs was a gigantic axe; at their belts, they carried four or five throwing axes and also a dagger; in each of their hands there was a bulging sack: probably their food. Filee set down his sack between his feet, freeing up his hands.

"Are you coming with us and these strangers," he signed to Rebecca. She nodded, then signed in return. Lauren couldn't understand because she was going too fast.

"Alright," the dwarf said when she was done and picked up his bag. "Let's be off."

The five Dwarves and Rebecca headed off, but Lauren, Nicole and Quinn stood there.

"And that's it?" Quinn said, looking at them stupidly as they headed off down to a gaping black doorway at the opposite end of the hall. "We're going already?"

Lauren shrugged. "I… guess so."

"How long is it until we get to the other side and out of here?"

"A couple of days."

There was a pause. Suddenly, Lauren started walking off, humming to herself and following the Dwarves.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asked.

"Do we got a choice?"

Quinn and Nicole exchanged looks and followed.

By this time, Lauren was really getting into the song she was humming, and even began to slip in a few incoherent words, and even a little dance move or two with each step. She was snapping her fingers and grooving, moving her body to a beat that only she could hear.

"What are you doing?" Quinn said, giving her a look.

Lauren stopped, one foot in the air in an exaggerated step and turned her head to look at him. Suddenly a comically wry grin spread from cheek to cheek.

"_It's a wonderful night,  
You've gotta take it from me,  
It's a wonderful night,_

_Come on and break it on down…_"

"What the hell?"

"She does it sometimes." Nicole shrugged and joined in on Lauren's singing.

"_It's a wonderful night,  
You've gotta shake it for me…  
It's a wonderful night,_

_It's a wonderful night,  
Everybody can see,  
It's a wonderful night…_

_Come on and break it on down,_

_It's a wonderful night,  
Go ahead and release,  
It's a wonderful night,_

_Come on and break it on down!_"

Lauren was getting really into the music. She was dancing all over the place as they went, singing as though she were Fatboy Slim herself. Eyes closed in a fit of lyrical passion, she belted out her voice and didn't care who heard.

"_You know the music search engine need a tuneup  
Soon as they out the gate they all a wanna hear da corner, uh-huh  
Well that was cool but now but then I heard a rumor, uh-huh  
Your crew was ridin' for the White Cliffs of Dover, uh-huh_

_Uh let me tell ya how we do it in California  
We'll have you on the run just like a Puma  
If it don't move us  
Ain't paid ya dues and it ain't gonna get our groove on so  
We gonna lose ya to the consumer solution c'mon_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta shake it for me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_Girl I want it you got it  
Your body's like a narcotic  
The thought is auto-erotic_

_Can I get it on credit  
I guess your brick-house I'll bet it  
Take it as far as you'll let it_

_Come on and break it on down_

_That the spot will get hot  
That its ready to pop  
Don't even look at the clock  
All of your problems forgotten  
It's time to rock till you drop  
Feel the force and just flock  
To the epicenter of the party's bass tremors c'mon_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta shake it for me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_We gonna stimulate your mind  
Everybody's high  
Eyes just like a child  
Everything feels right_

_Once you've seen the light  
You're gonna move all night  
Feel your soul ignite  
Everything feels right, right, riggggggggghht_

_We live the masterful life that's mythical  
Feel its chords and its vibes atypical  
Do what you want  
It's alright this mystical time you've got  
That's alotted is plentiful_

_If you stay in this moment so critical  
Let the music change your brain stem's chemicals  
Make you feel like your spirit's invincible  
Force centrifugal reaching up to your pinnacle now_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta shake it for me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_We rock like Colorado  
You're at it throwin' bottles  
We give a fuck about your status  
Who you are tomorrow  
Whether you beg or borrow  
Or hit the super lotto  
Whether your girl look like a minger or a supermodel_

_Feel the connectedness, energy, disprojected the weighted  
The whole collective consciousness  
Arise like helium up  
Groovin' out of the question  
Won't disrespect him, but  
Our styles fuckin' Posh, like Dave Beckham c'mon_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta shake it for me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_

_The truth I'm at 'em and rough 'em  
As hard as the granite get  
Never hesitant upon a mic, strike quick  
Like an avalanche  
Hijack ya like a Comanche  
I'm a man on a mission  
Rhyme vigilante  
Keep all the jealous and the envious antsy  
Love to do the club, go with the party people dancin' uh-huh  
And set the mood for all the plottin' and romancin' uh-huh  
It's a wonderful night  
We've got the answer c'mon_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night  
Come on and break it on down_

_It's a wonderful night  
You've gotta shake it for me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down_"

Nicole and Quinn had joined in at the "come on and break it on down" parts, being cued by an exaggerated gesture by Lauren, who spun around and walked backwards to the rhythm before continuing to obey her submission to the music.

Lauren was feeling quite satisfied with herself at her ability to remember lyrics so completely, and to have the freedom to sing here as her voice echoed through the cavernous chasms like the crowd she ought to have.

And so it continued like that for what Lauren assumed to be two days. The dwarves stopped the party to rest because they needed sleep, and Lauren sung some songs that she knew by heart, talking to Rebecca once and a while at the parts where they could both see, because she didn't know the Dwarves secret sign language that can be used without seeing it. She saw Filee employ it once during their trip, and it included only an alphabet. The fingers of each of his hands were placed under each collarbone, and she read the letters by how many fingers on each side there were. Very interesting. She'd have to come back sometime and have Rebecca teach her.

"Oh my god!" Nicole hissed at one point, grabbing Lauren and shoving her face in a direction so that she could get a good look at one particular bridge. Or, a broken bridge, rather.

"Holy shit!" Lauren relied, covering her mouth with a hand in disbelief. A rush came up from her stomach and she felt weak and light all at the same time, as she continued to stare at the simple architectural form that spanned the length of a wide chasm.

"Khazad-dum…"

The hand slipped from Lauren's mouth, but her lips were parted. Nicole suddenly drew closer and they huddled together, looking. "Nicole?" Lauren said quietly.

"Y…yea?"

"I just realized that we are… in fact… in Middle-earth. There is no doubt about it."

"That's right, huh…"

"That's the very spot where Gandalf fell. Fighting the Balrog. Almost six years ago. In that very spot." Lauren almost swooned again as the rush overcame her. It… it was just not quite conceivable yet. Nicole's grip got tighter on her arm. "Right there, right in front of us."

They just stood in silence, when Quinn interrupted the pivotal moment. "What are you looking at?"

"The bridge of Khazad-dum, stupid."

"Yeah?"

Lauren just sighed and said nothing. It was obvious that he didn't appreciate it like her and Nicole did, so there was no point in trying to beat it into him.

"Let's go."

And so the trivial trio, the five Dwarves and Rebecca came at last to the Dimril Gate. Lauren cried out as the sun hit her eyes and had to shield herself from the blinding light. After a moment, she was able to look out over the great mass of rock in front of them, past that, and into the woods of Lothlorien. Lauren felt the adrenaline rush again, and squealed, not knowing exactly what else to do to express her sheer and utter excitement.

"OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD." She rucshed over to Nicole and hugged her tightly. "We're standing on the very ground that the Fellowship stood on! Where BOROMIR stood! Boromir was actually here, in this very spot!" Lauren wasn't exactly sure why she was so excited about the fact that the late heir to the Stewardship had stood on the very ground that she had. Perhaps, because, if he had stood there, that meant he was a real person at one point. A real, live, breathing human being. A very sexy human being too. And this was the closest that she would ever get to meeting him…

…at least in this life.

She looked back at Rebecca and the Dwarves, who now numbered eleven, as they all spoke and signed to each other. It was probably a good twenty minutes later, after the three had taken to throwing rocks, that Filee approached them.

"We made good time," he said. "The other group'll be headin' back now, with Rebecca. Yer on yer own now. Good luck getting' to the White Lady's realm."

Rebecca came over to them and gave Lauren a big hug, and then called Filee over again, and began signing like crazy.

"She says she wished you good luck," he said, looking at her. "And she wants you to visit again. Maybe Christmas?"

"How about she come visit me in Gondor for the holidays?" Lauren said.

"Hey! What about me?" Nicole whined.

"You come too."

"Fine. You come to Mirkwood next year."

Filee comtinued, and Rebecca laughed. "She said alright."

"Well, we'll be off," the Dwarf said. "And so should you. You should get into the cover o' the forest before nightfall," he said, inspecting the position of the sun in the sky. It was early afternoon. "It'll take ya a few days to get to Caras Galadhon."

"Yeah. It's a good thing we like walking. Well, thank you for taking us out here," Lauren said, shaking hands with the stout Dwarf.

"It's been a pleasure. Yer singin' pravaided ennertainmunt fer us all."

The three laughed. "Thanks, Fille."

"Get goin'!" he said, and shooed them away.

"Bye!" Nicole, Lauren and Quinn waved as they continued down the rocky decline.

They weren't walking for ten minutes before they heard some familiar neighs.

"Oh my god! Thinroch! Miril!" Quinn shouted in praise as the two horses galloped over to them, Thinroch with a mouthful of grass. Miril snorted in Lauren' quickly growing hair.

"YOU CRETINS!" Lauren shouted playfully at the beasts. "You scared us half to death, leaving us like that! TWICE!"

Miril neighed.

Lauren just shot her a look. "Ass."

The three teenagers mounted the horses, and proceeded to ride down the remained of the slope and through the beginning of the forests of Lorien.

And it was still a damn long ride to Gondor, Lauren thought, and then smiled. That was okay… the journey was half the fun anyways.


	4. On Humidity and Its Effects

"OH I WISH…"

That was to be the first song that would be sung in the glorious and enchanting forests of Lothlorien.

Poor, poor Lady Galadriel.

"My bologna has a first name…"

"IT'S O-S-C-A-R!"

"My bologna has a second name…"

"IT'S M-A-Y-E-R!"

"I love to eat it everyday-"

"-and if you ask me why I saaaaaaaaay…"

"'Cuz Oscar Mayer has a way-"

"-with B-O-L-O-G-N-A!"

"Stop it! Stop it!" Quinn cried. "I can't take it anymore. I thought you two didn't mind me being here after all?" he asked desperately.

Lauren and Nicole exchanged looks. "We really don't."

"Then why must you torture me with that song!"

"Sorry," Lauren shrugged. "Didn't know that there was a breed of human that existed that had never built up a chemical immunity to that one."

"Clever," he snarled.

"Isn't it so pretty here?" Nicole burst in seemingly out of nowhere. Lauren looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, thinking perhaps that the smell of the Mallorn (assuming they had a scent) had gone to her now little Elvish head. It was so very out of character. "I mean, come on. Think about it," she continued. "Since when do we, Southern Californians from the smoggy, dirty hole we call Los Angeles, ever find ourselves in such a scene as this?"

"There's Sherwood," Lauren said, examining her nails.

"Dude. Sherwood is pretty much the unshaven ass-crack of the mountains compared to this."

Lauren laughed and almost fell off her horse. "Yeah. You're kinda right, there."

She took a moment to look up through the gigantic trees, and realized that, in fact, they weren't Mallorn just yet. Those were nearer to Caras Galadhon. But the trees a flora were no less impressing as they trod along, the horses making little noise when each hoof dug into the soft earth. Unfortunately, her musings were interrupted by Quinnic the Green.

"So, uh, guys. You haven't really told me exactly where you're going, and what exactly I'm supposed to do about my coffee, and pact with Gabriel, and not being able to return to Heaven and… things like that."

"Well…" Nicole cleared her throat, a sign that Lauren took as being her cue to step in and do all the explaining.

"Okay. Quinn. First off, let me say this: your sudden appearance here kind of threw a little wrench into things. You say you can't leave until you get your coffee? I say Gabriel's a douche. But that's besides the point.

"What isn't besides the point is that you really can't leave until you get your coffee. That's the thing. We really can't get it now. You should've materialized in Rivendell if you wanted a coffee. We've been on the road now for… what… over a week? And you know all of the shit we had to go through to get to where we are. Running from orcs, fighting with orcs, wandering through mountain halls. Losing horses, finding horses. It's all very difficult business, you see. Especially with you, being all… angelic n' stuff. Glowing and healing, etc.

"As for where Nicole and I are going… I know that I'm going to Gondor. Minas Tirith, to be exact. She pretty much wants to go to Mirkwood for some reason, which is a really long ways away from Gondor. If you look at the map…" Lauren fumbled through her saddlebags and tore out a rather sad-looking pamphlet. She opened it to the map and handed it to Quinn.

"You gotta follow all of these rules?" he exclaimed, completely ignoring what Lauren had just told him to look at. She huffed.

"Yeah. We weren't kidding when we said DERIF was a bizzach," Nicole said. "Which makes your existence here all the worse."

"Sweet Jesus!" he gasped, examining the long list of rules that took up three pages in the pamplet. "Use of items bought from the Barns & Noble outside of any Elf-realm (Rivendell, Lorien, Mirkwood) is prohibited," Quinn read. "No use of colloquial speech in the company of Natives… No Fan may occupy any position within a Middle-earth government, whether monarchal or democratic? What the heck?"

"They don't want us taking over Middle-earth," Lauren said shortly. "LOOK AT THE MAP, QUINN."

"Alright, alright! What am I looking for again?"

"Mirkwood and Minas Tirith in Gondor."

A minute later: "Alright. Got it." And another minute later. "Wow. They _are_ a long ways from each other."

"Exactly. As I was saying. Nicole's going to Mirkwood, and I'm going to Gondor. You're probably going to have to go with Nicole, because she knows you better, and I honestly can't stand you enough to live in the same vicinity with you for too long. If you look to the left of the mountains that run vertically, the ones we just passed through, on the other side you'll find Rivendell. That's where the only Starbucks in Middle-earth is. That's the DERIF headquarters. And that's precisely the only place in Middle-earth where you pretty much can't go."

Quinn sighed. "And the worst part is you don't sound like you're BS-ing me this time."

"And that's because she's not," Nicole said.

"So… in essence and a nutshell, you're telling me that I really can't leave?"

Lauren looked at him. "You get a gold star," she said flatly.

"Ha," he snorted, then turned his attention back to the map, nearly slipping off the end of Thinroch but catching himself just in time. "Alright," Quinn began, reaching to adjust a pair of glasses that were not there. "So the place we're headed right now is… Lothlorien, right?"

"You're learning," Nicole said.

"So Lothlorien is this forest we're in, which is pretty big…"

"The exact place we're looking for is Caras Galadhon, the only city in this forest. It should take us another day to get there."

"Ah. I found it. Right there, in the middle of the forest, next to that river that's made up of… Selebrant and… Nimrodel."

"The C's in Elvish are never pronounced as S's. It's Celebrant. Which is over there," Lauren said, pointing to a small ravine way off to their right, about a hundred yards away. Other than that, the land was relatively flattish. The trees, however, were growing less and less sparse by the minute.

"If it's going to take us a day to get where we're going," ventured Quinn. "Why don't we just go faster? The horses _can_ gallop, you know."

"You hear that?" Lauren asked, pointing upwards and looking around with wide eyes. Quinn actually got scared. "That's the sound of the reverent silence of peace and age."

"Oh. I thought you heard orcs or something."

"No, idiot."

Nicole laughed. "You two are so funny."

"STFU."

And so it came to pass that the three did not gallop through the aged and (just short of) magical forest of Lothlorien, aptly named after that one guy back in Aman. They rode on for a while, and Lauren started getting hot again, in all of that ranger-garb, so she decided to take off her outer clothes and boots and cloak.

"Giving us a strip tease there, Lauren?" Nicole asked, laughing.

"HAHAHAHAHA**shut up**."

She wiggled her freshly liberated toes, which hadn't been freed since she was in The White Room. The air was warm, very warm, and she just remembered that they got transported into Middle-earth smack dab in the middle of summer. Oh Jesus… it was only going to get hotter when she started south. Lauren remembered reading in an atlas somewhere that Gondor pretty much had the same climate as California, her home state. And if that was the case… she knew there'd be that one week sometime in August when it would be so unbearably hot that she and everyone in Gondor would wish that they were never born.

…doubly so since ice hadn't been invented yet.

"Bah. Screw this," Lauren said, grabbing hold of Miril's reigns. "Let's ride."

And with that, they all shot off through the forest in a satisfying gallop.

As they rode, nobody spoke, instead focusing on keeping their balance on the horses while they were going so fast. They passed through the trees as they followed the brook on their right, which was slowly coming out of its ravine as they went. Ten minutes into the ride and the water was flowing flat on the ground.

"At this rate," Nicole shouted. "We might get there before the day's over!"

They went on and on for about another half hour, when the air seemed to thicken just a bit with moisture. Humidity, as Lauren discovered after spending one August in New York City, was the bane of her existence.

And as they went on, it just got wetter and wetter. Which also made the air a little hotter.

"Dude. This had better not be like, Hawaii or anything. I can't stand that weather."

And unfortunately, it was like Hawaii. And like Hawaii, it began to drizzle.

"NOOO!" Lauren shouted with obvious dismay as she stopped her horse. Miril snorted. "MY HAIR!" The girl let go of the reins and attempted vainly to cover her longish shaggy hair with her hands. But the bronze locks proceeded to dampen, and she cried out in a fit of sorrow.

"Dude. Lauren. It's just hair," Quinn said, sliding off the back of his horse. "Calm down."

"Just hair?" she said poisonously. "Look at this mess now that the rain's getting all over it!"

"It's kind of been a mess since after we left Rivendell…" Nicole said.

"YEA well now it's a CURLY mess!"

"I think you're overreacting." Quinn folded his arms.

"I think your mother's overreacting!"

"Alright. That was childish and uncalled for."

"I know you are but what am I?"

"I give up."

"Exactly my point!"

"You didn't win, you know. Because your hair's still curling up."

Lauren cried. "I hate you."

"Okay. Since we all are seeming to be getting real comfy," said Nicole. "Let's just stay here until morning, eh?"

"Whatever. I don't care."

"It doesn't matter where we are here," Lauren sulked. "My hair's going to be curly wherever I go in this damned wood."

"Alright!" Nicole put on a smile and ignored Lauren's last comment. She dismounted Thinroch with a disgusting display of Elvish grace. "Let's just camp out here."

Lauren suddenly jumped up, still visibly angry at her hair. "I'm gonna go walk around. I'll be back later," was all she said, and was gone.

Nicole and Quinn just blinked and exchanged glances before returning to get some delicious munchies out of the saddlebags.

And by delicious munchies, I mean week old, tasteless wafers whose copyrighted recipe only the Elves have the rights to.

* * *

Yeah, okay. Just because her hair was screwed up, she didn't have much of a right to complain.

She was in Middle-earth after all.

You get stripped of your complaining rights if you're in Middle-earth.

That's what happens, apparently.

So Lauren went walking around the wood, pondering her hair, and the fact that she was in Middle-earth. Could it be some Matrix-type thing, though? Like, all of this could just be a dream and she wasn't actually here? Oh well. It was a good dream, and she wasn't about to wake herself up.

She ran a hand through her irritatingly long hair that was getting all wavely from the humidity. She remembered her hair being rather short before stepping into the dressing room, but now it was just about to her shoulders. Maybe even a bit longer.

Lauren meandered over to the Celebrant, the babbling bloody brook, and looked into the wide, shallow water. The wide, shallow, cool, cool... water.

She was hot. And it was humid. And she was wearing a close fitting gray shirt and black pants with no shoes. Now the question was…

To swim, or not to swim?

But there weren't any towels.

And her hair would suffer even more after being thoroughly soaked.

Did she care at this point?

Not really.

Lauren ran alongside the bank, looking for a nice pool to dive into, when she came upon one in about a hundred feet away. She looked at the deep, reflective, clear water in a fit of giddiness. She glanced around, and seeing that she was out of earshot or eyeshot from Nic and Quinn, she dove into the pool and relished in the water.

Oh dear lord it felt GREAT.

It reminded her of all the summers she spent at her aunt's house, swimming all day in the pool in the unbearable heat. And when she couldn't swim anymore, she would inside, drink copious amounts of root beer and eat piles of grilled cheese and play computer games with her cousins until her eyes bled.

ROOT BEER.

She totally forgot she had two bottles!

And a CD player.

Oh snap.

What DID she plan on doing with those anyway? Well… listen to Tool of course (OMG TOOL) and drink root beer. Of course, she had to be extra careful. She would be breaking one of the DERIF's rules by bringing them to Gondor.

Oh well.

The water felt so nice in the heat, nothing else seemed to matter.

It's not like they'd be able to know she were using those things of technology anyways. How could they really enforce the laws they made? Whatever.

She lay there in the middle of the glassy water, looking up through the trees. Damn, it was so awesome.

But it seemed, about after half an hour or so of soaking, she was being watched. Those little hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end, so she stood up in the water –which was about chest-high- and looked around suspiciously. Perhaps it was her ranger instincts kicking in again.

Ears at attention and eyes wide, her panoramic vision was starting to let her see not just what she was looking at. Funny, nothing was there. But there was the faintest noise behind her and she whirled around. Her sharp eyes caught something darting away into the shadows… something like fabric. She was most definitely being watched.

After a moment, Lauren decided it might be a good idea to leave, or at least go get her sword and come back. The water was so nice… so that's what she did.

"What happened to you?" Quinn asked, eyeing her up and down in a disgusted way.

"I went swimming. Now STFU." Lauren only took a moment to locate her sword, and decided it would also be a good idea to bring Miril with her. She whistled for her horse and the beast came, following her and snorting.

"And where are you going now?" Nicole asked, looking up from her _Lembas_.

"Back to the watering hole. It was too nice there."

"Mmkay."

Lauren and Miril returned to the pool in the brook. "Alright," she whispered into Miril's ear. "I think someone's out there. If you could keep an eye out and kick their ass if you see anyone, that would be great."

The horse neighed with glee. It would be a pleasure to kick some ass.

And so Lauren went back swimming and soaking and basking, until it started getting dark, and her fingers started getting wrinkly. Fortunately, Miril found no one spying on them.

Lauren dragged her sword behind her in the grass and dirt, with Miril at her side. Nicole and Quinn had been stuffing their sorry faces with the waybread, and were showing signs of sluggishness.

"Sloth and gluttony," Lauren muttered.

"What?"

"Sloth and gluttony. Two of the seven deadly sins."

"Mmh."

They had a cozy fire going, but Lauren was still a little nervous about that person she saw earlier. What if it was a thief that was just waiting for them to be asleep so he could steal their stuff and cut their throats? She wasn't about to have that happen.

Quinn had already nodded off (Pff. Fatass.) And Nicole was busy reading her Wiccan books she spent her money on back in Rivendell. Lauren wasn't Wiccan anymore, but some of the stuff still fascinated her.

"I'll keep watch tonight," Lauren said, brandishing her sword.

"Why?" Nicole looked up from her reading.

"Someone's out there. They were watching me for I don't know how long before I noticed them. I donno if they ran off, or if they're still lurking about." She looked around again, but her eyes couldn't see much through the dusk in the trees.

"Yeah," Nicole said, matter-of-factly. "That's a bit creppy."

"No kidding. It'll give me good practice with my sword, though." Lauren laughed.

"True dat."

And so it came to pass that Lauren meandered around the camp after a while, positive that Nicole went to sleep out of boredom. She walked around in her bare feet, swinging her sword around in a poorly choreographed manner, even hitting herself on the shoulder accidentally.

But the night passed without so much as a footfall in the brush.

Dawn came and Lauren wasn't tired at all, just bored and antsy. The fire had gone out some hours before and Nicole and Quinn were stretching the sleep off themselves. Lauren had rediscovered her bow and quiver of arrows she lifted from the dead orcs back in Hollin, and was practicing… pretty successfully, actually. She found she was able to shoot a thin tree a good three hundred feet away. And that was in dim light!

"Let's get this shiz on the road," Nicole said. "I can't wait to get to Caras Galadhon!"

"Oh snap! Me neither."

"Uh… whatever."

Lauren put all of her weapons away and was back on her stamping horse. "Aight. We ready?"

"Yep."

"Lessgo!"

Miril darted off through the trees, giddy with speed. Like a speed demon. Yes. That's what she was. A Speed Demon. A demon of things that are fast and/or reminiscent to objects moving at a high velocity with little or no inhibition.

A half hour or so later, they crossed Celebrant at a nice little ford and kept going. After a while, they halted when the forest ended, and they came to a valley, with a huge hill in the middle, covered in massive trees.

Mallorn.

Now it seems that Miril knew exactly where they were then, as she began to prance around and buck and stamp, all the while neighing excitedly.

"Alright, alright!"

They shot off down the hill, but Lauren felt something as they approached the inner circle of forest. She felt as though their journey was ending. It was a really very strange feeling, and she didn't know why she was feeling it, especially because she knew that she would continue to Gondor for sure. This was only one of the many stops she'd have on the way to the White City. She might stay for a day or two, but it was only a temporary rest.

As they approached the trees, however, she saw people under them.

"Who are they?" Nicole asked as Thinroch rode right next to Lauren.

"I don't know."

The three teenagers were halted by four Elvish men dressed in official-looking clothes. They gestured for them to dismount.

"Who are you?" Lauren asked, eyeing them all carefully.

"We're a part of DERIF," one said as he stepped up to Quinn. She could tell he noticed something fishy about the six-foot plump boy.

"Like, secret police or something?"

He smiled poisonously. "We prefer to be called 'enforcers'."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're border patrol right now." The elf began to pat Quinn down. Some others began to rummage through saddlebags. Lauren felt white-hot panic fall through her. She knew that if she told them not to go through her bag, they'd get suspicious. And go through it even more.

"Hey!" Nicole said as one of the elves moved her arms harshly and began to pat her down as well. He was smirking the whole time. Nicole shoved him away. "That was rude!"

The Elf just laughed and continued to pat down her legs. "It's DERIF policy for the Enforcers, missy."

"I don't like the look of this one,' an elf said, grabbing Quinn painfully by the am and wrenching him forward towards the leader. "Check him out." Quinn gave her a panicked look.

"Rumil! Take a look at this!" One of the brown-haired ones had found Lauren's CD player. The girl shivered. She had to do something. Miril neighed fiercely, but was silenced when one of them grabbed her reigns tightly.

"STOP IT!" Lauren shouted, seething. She had her sword drawn and was pointing it at the elf who was still frisking Nicole. He put his hands up and rose slowly, not taking his eyes off Lauren, or the tip of her sword, which was dangerously close to his Adam's apple.

"You can get expelled from Middle-earth with a snap of our fingers," he said slowly.

"Yeah well I can expel you to the Halls of Mandos with a flick of my wrist so I'd shut up if I were you."

It began to drizzle again. And the elf just laughed.

"Lauren! Look out!" Nicole shouted as she was suddenly knocked to the ground from behind, and her sword lay just out of arm's reach. There was a very heavy thing on her and it wasn't about to let her go.

"THAT'LL teach you to— wait. Your name is Lauren?" said the elf who had tackled her.

The only noise Lauren could make was a very labored groan that was meant to let her captor know she couldn't breathe very well at all.

"Oh! Sorry," he said and got off her. Lauren inhaled deeply and coughed.

"YES. My name is Lauren. Why do you care to know?" She was frustrated.

"Because we were told to keep an eye out for you if you arrived," Rumil said. "And were also told to let you pass without search." He looked at the ground.

"Oh REALLY. And who told you this?"

"I should say that we were also told not to tell you who told us not to tell."

A pause.

"Alright. Whatever. I'll take THIS." Lauren snatched back her CD player from one of the dumbfounded Elves, and stuffed it into a saddlebag.

Quinn shoved his nosy elf away, too, with a "humph!".

"I think we'll continue on our way, Enforcers," Lauren said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Good day!"

They walked away, Lauren and Nicole leading their horses down the path that would take them deeper into Caras Galadhon. Quinn gave them a raspberry.

"I'll be sure to put in a good word for you to Lady Galadriel!" Nicole said over her shoulder, smiling sweetly to the one embarrassed elf that had over-searched her.

"Serves them right," Lauren mumbled. "Dirty bastards."

"You know? I'd like to thank whoever gave them word to let us pass through. It saved our ass," Quinn said.

Lauren gasped. "Maybe it has something to do with that person I saw yesterday!"

Nicole and Quinn exchanged looks. "Maybe. But we should be safe here. I'm just afraid of leaving you out in the wild while you go to Gondor all by yourself. I think it might be a bad idea. Something smells fishy."

"Oh." Quinn blushed and looked down. "Sorry."

"What?" Nicole looked at him. "Not… EW. Quinn!" She smacked his shoulder, and covered her nose. "But anyways… that's not what I was saying. There seems to be something up, and I don't want you alone, Lolo."

"That's prolly a good idea. I think we should all stay here for a bit while things smooth over."


	5. On Surprises

The Trivial Trio got walking again in satisfied silence, down a hardly trodden path through rich grasses and delicate, yawning ferns. The air was warm and thick with moisture, and Lauren was almost dismayed at the thought that it would drizzle again. But it was so nice in Lorien… she could almost care less now.

"When do we start seeing stuff?" Quinn asked skeptically. He looked around and wrinkled his nose at a butterfly that fluttered past him.

"Wow. Shut up," Lauren said.

Quinn scoffed. "Fine. Jesus didn't like you anyway."

They walked along in silence for some time, when it began to drizzle again.

And then the drizzle turned into rain.

"Christ! Are we going to have to put up with this for our entire stay?" Lauren howled as she quickly got out her ranger's cloak and covered herself from the onslaught of falling water.

"I certainly hope not!" Nicole snarled as she huddled under her own cloak that Quinn was wearing.

"Dude. Let's get out of the rain. This is ridiculous!" Lauren and Nicole and Quinn all dashed for the roots of the nearest Mallorn (which was a little ways away) and all huddled dismally in the dirt.

Luckily the warm rain only lasted for a few moments before the sun's rays filtered through the canopy of the towering Mallorn trees.

"Look!" Lauren called to Nicole and Quinn and pointed to a pavilion nestled in the roots of a neighboring tree.

"What?" Nicole emerged from their sheltered niche. She looked to where Lauren was pointing. "It looks like a café or something."

"Can we please please please go over there? I'm tired of that Lembas stuff!" Quinn begged as he stomped over to where the two girls stood.

"I don't have any cash, but I'll be happy to share some root beer with Nicole if she'll buy something for me..." she nudged Nic in the side a little. "Hint hint."

"Alright," Nicole sighed in defeat.

"Yes!"

And with that the trio walked over to the other tree and found a cute little bistro nestled in the greyish roots of the Mallorn with little tables set outside on the grass. They found an unoccupied table (there was only one other elf sipping on something hot and reading a book) and sat down, waiting for someone to dish out menus.

A moderately young-looking elf strode up to them in simple grey attire and black underclothes. He had unusually disheveled hair (for an elf) tucked loosely behind his ears. "We don't see many fans in Lorien... what can I get you today?" he asked politely, taking a quick glance at Lauren.

"A cappuccino please," Nicole said.

"I'll take..." Lauren paused for a moment to look at the elf. "Uhm, I'll take a blueberry muffin, please."

"A scone and caramel machiado, if you will," Quinn said. "You have a Barista?"

The waiter smiled. "That we do."

"I used to work at Starbucks, you know."

"Oh really..." Lauren watched him closely as his reaction quickly changed from familiarity to feigned ignorance. "A Starbucks is the Mundane World's sort of coffee supplier?"

"Yep," Quinn replied proudly.

"Well, let me get you your order, and I'll be back in a second." The waiter smiled and turned, taking one last look over his shoulder at Lauren before returning to the café kitchen. Lauren let out a sigh of relief.

"Dude! He was SO checking you out!" Nicole burst as soon as he was out of ear-shot.

"Eew. Gross. Hell no..."

"Then explain why he kept on looking at you."

"Dude... I don't know... it's just..."

"Spit it out."

"It's like I know him or something. Just a really strange feeling I got... like deja-vu or something. Like I've known him for so long but now I've just met him for the first time."

"I'll buy that," Nicole laughed.

"Seriously!"

The whir and scream of the milk steamer inside filled the air for a few moments and then stopped again. The reading elf gathered his book, got up and quietly walked away, leaving the porcelain cup and saucer on the table.

"Anyways," Lauren huffed, slouching in her chair. "He's way too old. Probably like a million years old or something."

The three of them were strangely silent, listening to the faint song of birds high up in the canopy. Lauren guessed they were busy waiting for their orders, but there was an idleness and tiredness in the air about them. The stay with Rebecca and the Dwarves was hardly relaxing, and Lauren felt that they were very relieved to finally make it to Lorien.

A couple of minutes crawled by, and the bizarrely familiar waiter came back with a tray in his hand. He smiled as he placed the food items down on the table in front of the proper recipient. The trio looked up and all thanked him before turning to their treats.

"You owe me a root beer now," Nicole said flatly.

"We'll need a cup then..." Lauren said, looking at her muffin, then turning around and raising her hand. "Uhm, waiter! Waiter!" She called after their server, who stopped and walked back over to them, the tray under his arm.

"Yes?" Lauren suddenly jumped and went sheet white.

"Could you, uh, get us a cup with some ice, please?"

"Sure." He went back to the counter. Lauren flinched as he walked away.

"Dude, what's wrong with you and him?" Quinn asked, confused and suspicious.

"What?"

Nicole snagged a bit of Quinn's scone and spoke. "Yea. What's going on? Why are you freaking out?"

"Freaking out?" Lauren tried to keep her voice down so the elf wouldn't hear. "I'm not freaking out..." A cup was suddenly placed in front of her, filled to the brim with ice cubes, and she started again. She muttered a 'thank you' and got a 'your welcome' in return. He walked away.

Nicole sipped her cappuccino. "Yes you are. Don't deny it."

"Alright!" Lauren almost shouted. "I **am **freaking out, okay?"

Quinn looked surprised. "I can _see _that..."

"It's just, something's going on. You know when I called him back, calling him 'waiter', 'waiter'?" Nic and Quinn nodded. "When he walked away to get me a cup of ice I think I heard his voice in my head..."

"It's official. You've snapped," Quinn announced while slapping the back of Nicole's hand as she tried to get another piece of his scone.

"What did the voice say?" Nicole seemed to gain interest again. "Anything you'd hear in a horror movie?"

"No! It was weird–"

"That's been established."

"Shut up! The voice said, and I quote: 'I thought you knew my name, Lauren.'"

Nicole and Quinn were silent. Lauren's muffin was getting cold.

"Wow. That is a little creepy. Maybe you do have a reason to get freakish." Nicole finished off her coffee and set the cup down on the saucer.

Lauren glared at Nicole. "Thanks for your conformation, Dr. Phil," she said snidely.

Nicole ignored the comment. "How did he say it? Was it mean and creepy?"

"No." Lauren shook her head and picked at her muffin. "It was more... amused. Friendly, almost."

"That can sometimes go under the 'creepy' category too, you know," Quinn said, topping off his scone.

"True."

"You know," Quinn said, leaning back in his chair. "I think maybe you should approach him..."

"And say what?"

"I dunno... but if he's bothering you that much, I say confront him. In a non-confrontational manner, of course."

Lauren slumped in her chair in defeat. "You're right. I'll bring it up somehow."

A few minutes later, the waiter came back with a handwritten receipt. He set it in the middle of the table, and walked away.

Once he was out of earshot again, Lauren murmured: "You know? He seems very familiar..." She was going to reach for the bill, but Nicole was the first to snatch it up.

"What?" Lauren asked, wondering why there was a certain look of smugness and satisfaction on her face.

"Oh nothing," she began, setting the receipt down. Quinn picked it up. "It's just that this elf's fondness of you is seemingly benefitting all of us."

Quinn grinned. "All of our food is on the house, it says. Yeah!"

"Surprising, but, very generous indeed."

Quinn and Nicole stood up. "In that case," Nicole said, "Quinn and I will try and find some place to stay tonight. You go talk to that elf dude."

"You guys suck."

Nicole smiled. "I know. We'll be back for you in a little bit."

Lauren sighed. "Fine. If you don't see me when you get back, look in the nearest dumpster."

"He won't kill you, Lauren. Quit being such a ninny; as you would say."

"Yea. Bye to you too."

Lauren started for the Barista as it started to drizzle again. She hurried up a little and paused when she was in the shelter of the pavilion nestled in the roots. The elf was busying himself with wiping down the milk steamer and dumping the old coffee grounds.

"Can I help you?" he asked without even turning around.

"Uhm, no..." it took all of Lauren's willpower not to stammer. "I was just going to say... how... you seemed familiar. Have I seen you before?" With that he turned around and looked at her.

"Oh come on. I think you know the answer to that," he said.

Lauren was confused. "What?"

"I said I think you know the answer to that."

"I know what you said... what are you trying to get at though? This is my first time in Lorien, ever."

"You know who I am. Trust me."

"Wait. What are you talking about?" Lauren was losing her cool; it seemed to her that this elf was having fun messing with her brain.

"Remember. Remember eighth grade."

"Eighth grade? How do you... what? You know... Wait..." Lauren wracked her memory in search of something, and suddenly an image popped up. It was a bright light; a computer screen in the dark? She strained her mind's eye to see what was written. It was a roleplay, a Helm's Deep roleplay, and her character was injured. But the memory faded, and Lauren narrowed her eyes as she looked at the elf, who seemed to grow more familiar by the minute. "What's your name?"

"Narthas."

At first it didn't register as anything special, but it hit her; literally hit her. Her eyes widened, jaw dropped, and if her health wasn't well at all, she could have suffered from a heart attack or seizure. "**_Oh my god!_**" Lauren shrieked. "Narthas! SHIT!" She cursed aloud and Narthas started laughing as Lauren went around the counter to deliver a hug. She was completely stiff, tense, no muscle wanted to move at all. But the hug was fine, and Lauren remained in a state of shock.

"You need to blink," Narthas laughed, pointing to her face.

Lauren started to laugh, more of a hyperventilation cover-up, and she blinked a few times. "Oh. My. Bloody. God. I canNOT believe who you are. You can't be Narthas... can you?"

"I am Narthas, and will be until the Great End."

"But how can that be... I... I invented you. I made you up!"

"Well, hm. Let's see." He started poking himself in the arm. "I seem to be in existence and certainly am no hallucination either."

"Oh my god ohmygod ohmygod... I still can't believe this. My character... actually _lives_. A character that I had only thought existed in my head and sketchbook... and here you are, in the flesh! You have no freaking idea how cool this is! It's like meeting Sean Bean, only I'm best friends with him! But you're cooler anyways!"

"Sean Bean?"

"Never mind. All that matters now is that you're here, I'm here, Nicole and Quinn are here, and you need to teach me to sword fight!" Lauren closed her eyes, squealed again and gave him another hug. "Wait. One thing," she said, letting him go and pacing behind the counter of the little café. It started to pour outside. "How did you know who I was if you've never met me?"

"That was rather simple," he said, taking off his apron after glancing at a primitive clock on the wall. "It's called intuition." His voice had an undertone of sarcasm. "And a bit of novice thought-reading."

"Thought-reading? You can read minds?"

"A little... only strong feelings and the subconscious sense of identity. It was one of Morithil's–"

Lauren broke him off. "Morithil is here too!"

Narthas laughed. "He is... and won't budge for anything besides women or ale."

"Nicole is going to die. All over again."

* * *

Lauren had waited for Narthas to close up shop before they could start talking, but after a few minutes of emptying trash and cleaning coffee makers, they were off. 

"So… what exactly are you doing in Lorien?" Lauren asked, looking up at her elf-friend, with her hands behind her back and her neck craned forward in a curious manner.

Narthas looked at her as he strode along beside the girl, and he drew his lips together in a thin line before breaking out in a wide smile.

"Well," he began rather intriguingly. "I've actually been here since the Fellowship was here."

"Oh really," Lauren said, looking forward and stifling a bout of laughter. A small noise escaped her nose, and Narthas knew exactly what it was.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, looking at her, his mouth curled in a grin.

"Nothing," she said, drawing her lips tightly together. "It's just funny… I don't even know why I'm asking about you."

"And why is that?" The elf was curious and probably a little confused.

"Because I made you. I know everything that's happened to you. Well… not _everything_, but you get it."

"Ah…." Narthas looked forward and scratched his chin and the side of his mouth. "That's what's going on."

Lauren sighed. "This is so freaky. I know about everything that has ever happened to you, everything you've ever felt… I know every grueling detail about almost every experience you've ever had." She turned to him, squinting her brown eyes. "Doesn't that scare you a little too?"

He looked at her with his green eyes that bore an uncanny resemblance of knives or swords or kingdoms at war. They were a most peculiar shade of green… when she looked at them, she could almost see the forests of Doriath and Nevrast, flecked with the stone and alabaster walls of Gondolin, touched by the sands of far lands and the tide of even farther seas, and were faintly rimmed with the blood of war and innocents. After a most painful moment Lauren had to look away. She knew Narthas could read her like an open book, but she didn't care.

"It does to an extent," he said, clearing his throat. After a moment, he took a double take. "Wait… _everything_?"

Lauren looked at the ground and wrung her hands together. "Uh, well, mostly… yea."

The elf's eyes went wide and she could tell his stomach had suddenly filled with butterflies.

"Even… when… I…" The poor guy was choking on his words and suddenly started shaking. Narthas swallowed hard. "_Luinil?_"

Lauren felt her entire being heat up in a gigantic blush. Now the conversation was getting a little uncomfortable… for the both of them.

"Well, I—"

"You can't tell anyone about it," he said suddenly in a low voice, looking around nervously. "Please, Lauren. You can't. I hate my past… I hate most of the things I did, and I don't want any of it to surface again." He grabbed her shoulder. "You have to promise."

"Alright, alright," she said. "I won't tell a soul. And honestly, I don't think any less of you for what you did back then. You were angry, and depressed. I completely understand. And besides… I don't think anyone in this day and age will know who Luinil is."

Narthas took a deep breath to calm himself. Obviously, just the thought of Lauren inherently knowing all of his deepest darkest secrets had shaken him considerably. "Okay… Just… don't ever mention anything you know I wouldn't want mentioning. Ever."

"Alright."

There was a long silence. The longest awkward silence Lauren had ever had to endure.

"Do you know anything about me?" she asked after a while. Lauren was truly hesitant to know the answer, but perhaps it would make him feel a little better.

He sighed. "Yes, a little."

"Like what?"

"Well… All right. I have to tell you the truth, but I can't tell you now," was all he said.

"What?"

"Looks like I'll have to tell all of you," Narthas said, pointing to two people and two horses a little ways away. Nicole ran over to them.

"Dude! Did you guys hook up?" she said eccentrically, looking at them both with a huge smile on her face.

"W.T.F?" Lauren said, and proceeded to laugh. "Hell no!"

Nicole's look of excitement died. "Well then what's going on?"

It was Lauren's turn to get excited. "Alright. Do you have any idea who this is?" she asked.

Nicole crossed her arms and studied the tall Elvish guy standing in front of her, studying her all the same. It was a while later, and after a few "hm"'s did she say something.

"Figwit?"

"AAUGH! NO YOU DUMBASS." Lauren yelled. "BESIDES. Figwit's effin' ugly anyway." She grabbed Narthas' face and directed it toward Nicole. "Does this LOOK like Figwit to you? These chiseled features? These penetrating eyes and classic jawline? This attractively hedonistic hairstyle? Are any of these things in any way shape or form reminiscent of Figwit's dull and mediocre presence?"

"I fink cu can let gho ofh my fafe."

"Oh," Lauren said, removing herself from her Elf friend. "Sorry."

Narthas shook his head and rubbed his cheek; he smiled. "No problem."

"No, but seriously. Do you have any idea who this is."

"No, but seriously. I don't. Who is he?" Nicole was getting bored of this game, Lauren could tell. It was about then that Quinn had wandered over, curious as to what was going on.

"I see you made a friend," he said dumbly, sizing up Narthas with a stupid smile slapped on his face.

"Oh my god, Nicole." Lauren slapped her forehead and couldn't help but grab the elf's arm and shake him slightly. "This is NARTHAS, Nicole, NARTHAS!"

Nicole was quiet for a moment as her eyes went wide, and her breath was caught in her throat. All the blood seemed to drain from her face. For a moment, the only sounds that escaped her mouth were a series of incoherent syllables, but she eventually managed to sputter some words.

For instance: "OH MY GOD! HOLY SHIT!" Then: "You have got to be kidding me, Lauren. This isn't your character. This can't **possibly** be your character. The same character that we schemed about as we walked around at the beach that one time? I thought we were just coming up with shit, Lauren, not creating an actual person!"

"I KNOW! Isn't this frickin' awesome!"

The girls got excited again and started hopping around, and hugged each other and squealed. Then a thought struck Nicole.

She paused, then looked at Lauren's friend. "Where's Morithil!" she bellowed. "Where is he!"

Narthas's eyes went wide and he laughed with a hand placed lightly on his stomach for effect. "Are you sure you want to see him? He hasn't lain eyes on a woman in a couple of days… he might pounce on you the first chance he gets."

Nicole folded her arms defiantly and cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, he knows I'd kick his ass."

"Besides," Quinn said hurriedly. "I'd protect her."

"Oh really?" Narthas said, looking at the zealous young man. "I'm not too sure that you," he began, then quickly mumbled: "…considering your build, wouldn't stand a chance against him. In fact, he's bigger than me." The elf made a point to step closer to Quinn to emphasize his taller stature in comparison to the chubby kid. Narthas took advantage of the closer proximity between he and Quinn to get a better look at the boy. Lauren suddenly felt that panic fall through her again when a suspicious look crossed his features the more he looked at Quinn. However… there was a large part of her that said she could somehow trust Narthas with the dangerous secret. "He's an odd one," Narthas said, thumbing in Quinn's direction as he turned away back toward Lauren and Nicole.

"Yes, well, he's… he a Maia," Lauren said, stumbling over her words. "He's Quinnic the Green?" She knew that the Elf was nowhere near stupid enough to believe the lie, but somehow she hoped that be would leave well enough alone.

And as she suspected, Narthas hated leaving well enough alone. The elf snorted, as though he could smell Quinn's unnatural presence thick in the air. "You don't look like a Fan," Narthas said slowly. "What's his story?" he asked Lauren.

"Well," Nicole said, not leaving Lauren time to make up the excuse this time. "He, uh… he…" Lauren was surprised to find that Quinn didn't bother to say anything as Nicole searched for a plausible fib. "He… the… you see, the changing… rooms… they, uh, they…" Lauren closed her eyes and groaned inaudibly at Nicole lack of skill at lying.

Lauren butted in. "Alright," she said at length, then lowered her voice and gestured for Narthas to lean in closer. "He's not of this Fandom," she murmured. Lauren looked around nervously, paranoid that someone would overhear or that DERIF would somehow find out.

"What?" Narthas was in disbelief.

"You know how the Fan system works, right?" she asked, assuming that all the Elves knew.

"Of course."

"Obviously, his Fandom unintentionally screwed up and sent him here." Lauren's voice was a whisper now.

"They what?" Narthas's eyes darted from Lauren back to Quinn. But he suddenly stood up before Lauren could reply, and cleared his throat. "We'd better finish this conversation somewhere… safer."

Lauren and Nicole exchanged nervous glances.

"Get the horses, wouldja?"

The trio followed Narthas through the wood on a winding path that lazily meandered around houses and trees. The elf led them to a winding stair, and Quinn was beckoned to leave the beasts of burden at the base of the tree. The four of them walked up the trees as it began to drizzle again, and the hurried up. They ended up on a _talan_ at the top and in five different directions were suspended bridges that led to other _talans_ or even homes. Narthas made a sharp left and went across the bridge and to another platform, and took the right of two bridges. A short staircase later and they found themselves in a Narthas's home: a giant, delicate structure high in his own Mallorn with sweeping views of other foliage.

"_Ai! Sargrirar! Caelye lemar._"

"_Aiya umlye… ya naa ron?_"

"What are they saying?" Quinn asked nervously in a hushed voice, eyes darting around the apartment.

"_Eithel, tulle sinome ar'ele!_" Narthas said and laughed. Lauren was amazed at how naturally his native speech rolled so elegantly and casually off his tongue.

There was a snarl and a groan upstairs. "This had better be worth it," the voice called down, and heavy footfalls were heard storming down some stairs.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Well. There are several occasions I can recall in which you—" a figure shuffled into view from around a corner. He was really very tall, with poor posture. He had short, jet-black hair and pointed ears. He was clad in a wrinkled black tunic and pants and was wearing socks… or at least one sock, but no one seemed to notice. There was also a foaming tankard in his hand.

"You said we had guests?" he said in a clearly frustrated tone, all the while scratching his head. "Augh… how did this happen?" he asked, following a scratch in the wooden floor with his unclothed toe.

Narthas cleared his throat and gestured towards the staring kids. Nicole was staring, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Oh!" said the figure, and he walked over to examine them. _"Mae govannen._ Who are you again and why are you here?"

Narthas butt in and rolled his eyes. "These aren't concubines if that's what you're thinking." The other elf cursed under his breath and took a swig from his drink. "This is Lauren, Nicole, and Quinn. Guys, this is Morithil."

Nicole proceeded to scream and pass out onto the floor.

"Holy shit!" Morithil said, and leaned over the fainted girl. "Is she gonna be alright?"

Lauren, Quinn, and Narthas leaned over her too. Narthas picked her up. "Yea, she should be fine. Just give her a few minutes." The elf took her upstairs and set her on a bed with the remaining three following like lost puppies.

"Why'd she faint like that?" Morithil asked nonchalantly, all the while drinking from his mug. "Did I scare her? I shouldnt've… I used to be scarier way back when. Just ask Narthas."

Lauren was curious as to why Morithil had a British accent. It was unexpected, but it certainly fit his character. She said: "Because she supposedly created you. Like I did Narthas."

"She thinks I'm her brain-child," Narthas said to Morithil in a very parental manner.

"I only think that because it's true," said Lauren. She sat down in a chair, folded her arms and crossed her legs. Quinn took a seat on the floor next to her, while Narthas and Morithil made comfy on a bench across the room. Morithil took another look at the girl on the bed, in her Elvish raiment, and shook his head.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said. "This just can't be true. Not only haven't I envisioned anything about this before, it's just plain illogical!"

"Actually," Narthas corrected. "You did. Remember when you told me something told you that we should stay here, even though I had planned on meeting Boromir back in Minas Tirith after the Fellowship left here? I do believe that thing would be, uh, these three." He pointed at all of them at the same time with three fingers.

"I don't like that one," Morithil snorted, tossing his head in Quinn's direction. The poor boy looked offended. "Who's he?" he asked Lauren.

Narthas broke in before Lauren could reply. "Well, the whole reason we came here was so Lauren could tell me about it without fear of being… overheard."

Morithil looked from Narthas, to Quinn to Lauren. "Well?" he said after a moment.

"Well, you see… Quinn here isn't from this Fandom," she began. "As a matter of fact… Quinn."

"Huh?"

"Take off Nicole's cloak."

"But—"

Lauren jumped up from her chair and went to the window. "Just do it," she said as she drew the curtains shut and closed the door. It wasn't incredibly dark, but it would be enough. She saw the two men on the bench give her a strange look, but she ignored it and waited for Quinn to stand up and drop the cloak to the floor. His white –however dirtied from travel- robes and pitiful sandals worn from running and walking and climbing were visible now. It took Narthas and Morithil a millisecond to see what Lauren was trying to show them.

Poor Quinn, the angel-in-training, was glowing like a damned mofo.

Narthas and Morithil's eyes went wide and their jaws dropped. "What exactly is he?" Narthas said, his voice slowed from shock.

Quinn sat down in a pitiful heap and looked at his hands in his lap.

"He's an angel," Lauren said, sitting down too.

"A what?"

"An angel. You know how all of the Fans here in Middle-earth are just spirits from another world, right? Well, Middle-earth isn't the only place that we can go. I'm not sure if you know that, but it's true. There are tons of other places that we can go, each with their own set of rules for the Fans. And you know very well how strict the rules are here, and how well they're enforced."

"Oh gods, yes," Narthas groaned. "DERIF is horrible. Did you know that Elrond is the head of DERIF? When they originally created the organization, he called me to Rivendell and he lectured me about the rules that would be set in place for the Fans. He told me what exactly would happen to me, or the Fans, if, say, I were to... disrupt things." Morithil and Narthas shot each other knowing looks.

Lauren lifted one eyebrow at the simple communication between the two, suspicious that something was up. She knew something was up. Of course: it was Narthas. With him, there was always something up. But there was no time to look into it at the moment.

"Anyways," she continued. "So Quinn's not from here. He just… appeared about a day from Rivendell." Then she laughed. "And I almost killed him."

Quinn scoffed.

"But how did he get here, if he didn't come from the Waypoint and through the Barns & Noble?" Morithil asked. It was the first remotely intelligent thing he'd said since they got there.

"Gabriel let me come," Quinn said. "I wanted a coffee so bad, and there was none to be had in Heaven… he said that the caffeine messed something up. I forgot what it was, but I asked if I could go to Middle-earth and get a Starbucks, because Lauren and Nicole told me that it was the only place in the afterlife where you could get one. He told me that I couldn't come back unless I had one. I figured it was an easy enough deal to fulfill, but I guess not." He looked down again.

"There is no way that you can go to Rivendell. Absolutely no way, Quinn. Unless, somehow, DERIF was dismantled and you could go there freely without being arrested or something, and being sent back to Purgatory. Then things would surely get even messier than they already are." Narthas sighed. "Another concern of mine is what if there's more of you, and we just don't know it? Unregistered Fans from other worlds, running freely through Middle-earth? They mark each and every one of you as soon as you step out of that elevator too, by the way. You probably don't know, but DERIF keeps a close watch on all of you. Eerily close."

Lauren swallowed at the new threat of there being others. These other fans, without knowing the rules of the DERIF could jeopardize the mental and social stability of every resident of Middle-earth. It would uproot everything that they knew to be real, everything that they took to be natural law. It would be beyond disastrous. "How do they watch us?"

"Palantir," Narthas said flatly. "Or something like it. I don't know... whatever Elrond and his associates are using to keep Fans in check, it's working."

A strange and uneasy silence passed into the room and lingered there for a while, before Lauren brought up something else. "How do you know me?"

Her Elven brain-child sighed and shut his eyes tight, almost as if he was suddenly struck with a migrane. He groaned under his breath. "You would never believe me," he said. "Although I should probably tell you, while we're on the subject of rule-breaking."

Lauren went cold, and she suddenly didn't want to know how he knew about her.

"Alright," he began, then paused, thinking perhaps how he could say what he needed to say tactfully. "During those six or so years after the Fellowship departed from here down the Anduin..." Narthas searched the floor for what he needed to say. Lauren knew he was treading on dangerous ground. "Morithil opened something," he said.

"Oh no..." Lauren murmured and closed her eyes. Morithil coughed and finished his tankard.

"Yeah. It might be the cause of all of this. It might be the sole thing that's actually enabled Quinn to get here without going through the Waypoint," Narthas continued, pointing at Quinn on the floor.

"Is it in the open?" Lauren asked, eyes desperately searching for answers.

"Heavens no!" said Narthas. "We may be foolish, but we're not idiots. But as I was saying... he tore a tiny hole one day in the fabric between worlds by mistake, and we managed to rip it open little by little until we could fit through." Narthas was completely sober, and he knew very well that what he was saying could get him in some of the biggest trouble of his life. "Fortunately, the hole needed to be propped open or else it would shrink and close up. We couldn't risk it, so we kept it open just in case. We didn't know if we would ever be able to do it again."

"So is it closed now?"

"Well..."

"WHAT!"

"It's hidden, if that makes it any better?" Narthas said, almost flinching at Lauren's anger.

"How do you hide a rift in the space/time continuum that's big enough to fit an Elf and a Maia through!"

"You hide it next to a bush."

A pause.

"WHAT?" Lauren was thoroughly confused and frustrated and angry and scared. This shouldn't be happening. She was supposed to be living in Middle-earth in peace, not wrestling with modern beaurocracy and dealing with illegal portals!

"Don't worry!" Narthas said quickly, fearing Lauren's wrath. "It's almost invisible when we don't have it stretched open."

There was suddenly a groan coming from the individual on the bed. "Oh god... what happened?" Nicole asked, rubbing her head and sitting up. "Where are we?"

"Nicole, you might want to go back to sleep," Lauren said, shooting Narthas and Morithil dirty looks.

"What? Why?"

"No, she should hear this."

"So she knows what the hell we've gotten into."

"What happened now?"

"Let's just finish what we started," Lauren said. "And we'll recap later."

"Mmh."

"So what did you end up doing with this little portal of yours?" Lauren asked, her voice poison.

"Wait wait wait. Hold up," Nicole said, standing next to Quinn. "What's this about portals now?"

"I'll tell you," Quinn mumbled. Nicole sat down next to Quinn and he proceeded to tell her about what had happened thus far.

"Do we really need to tell you?" Morithil said, lounging on his end of the bench.

"Well where did you go?" she demanded.

"We... we went to your world."

Lauren's breath caught in her throat and she froze. All of the blood in her body fell to her feet, and she suddenly felt like blowing chunks. Her head spun, and she almost fainted herself.

"S-say that again."

"We went to your world." Narthas cleared his throat nervously.

"You're a horrible liar."

"I kid you not," he said defensively, then stood up. "Do you want me to show it to you? Because I can. I can show you right now."

Nicole's voice broke the moment. "Wait… you're Morithil?" she asked the other being sitting on the bench across from her.

"NICOLE. There's no time for that right now!" Lauren shouted.

"And YES, that is Morithil! YOUR MORITHIL." Narthas followed.

"Alright," Lauren said, glaring at her supposed character and not even missing a beat. "Show me. I need proof to conclude that either you're insane, or stupid. I never thought you were either."

"Alright!"

Narthas stormed out of the room and Lauren angrily followed suit. Down the stairs they went, out the door, across two bridges, and down more stairs. He only looked back once when they got to the forest floor again and continued to walk briskly in an unknown direction. He didn't follow any path that she could see, and it led away from the city. Once they were a few minutes away from anyone, he stopped near a thicket of young, sprightly birch trees. He circled them, until he found a small gap between the trunks, and wedged himself inside. Lauren hesitated for a moment before following him.

Inside was like a tiny room, surrounded on all sides by trees and bushes. She looked at Narthas, who was busying himself by examining each tree.

"Aha."

Lauren turned and her eyes followed his until they found an "X" carved into the bark of one tree. However, in the middle of the X, four dead, straight sticks stuck straight out of the trunk. Why would four sticks, flush up against each other, be growing out of a tree like that? It didn't look natural at all.

Narthas looked at her with those damned green eyes of his.

"This is dangerous stuff," he said quietly. "If anyone finds this out, all hell would break loose both here and there. You can't tell anyone about this—"

"Don't bother telling me. I know how dodgy all of this business is." She paused. "Show me." The elf began reaching for the sticks, but stopped when Lauren said: "But only a little! I don't want to… I don't know. See things. If I'm here, I'm here for good. I cut my ties with the Mundane World when I died."

He only nodded, and continued to grab the four twigs.

* * *

**(Rough) Sindarin Translations:**  
_Ai! Sargrirar! Caelye lemar._  
Hey! Sex-fiend! We've got visitors. 

_Aiya umlye… ya naa ron?  
_Oh really... who is it?

_Eithel, tulle sinome ar'ele!_  
Well, come here and see!


	6. On Moar Surprises

Lauren's heart began to race when he grabbed the four twigs sticking out of the X in the tree. His fingers wedged themselves between each one, and he turned to her.

"I'll need your help," he said.

She stepped up to him and took one stick in each hand, as he directed. He had the other two.

"Now pull it open."

Narthas dragged the sticks diagonally through the air with much effort, and Lauren did the same, so that each of their movements was proceeding in all directions away from each other. It was very hard to do, like trying to drag a stick through thick mud. But suddenly, like a keyhole, the sticks seemed to drag open the rift, and sunlight greeted her eyes from through the hole. He helped her hold it open to make a three inch hole, and Lauren peered through back into her home world. The sound of traffic and distant dirty music filtered through the noise of the city and out into Lorien. The portal on the other side was probably located in some inner city park in an inconspicuous place, with, again, four sticks protruding from nowhere marking where it lay.

Lauren suddenly let go of her two sticks and Narthas did too— the hole shrunk like a rubber band around them. Without it, the rift would surely close.

"So…" Lauren said, combing her hair with her fingers. "That's what you've been doing for the past few years." She paused and looked at the Elf, who said nothing. "And that's how you know about me? Because that was without a doubt Los Angeles. Might have even been on that hillside near Dodger Stadium or something."

"Yes, well." Narthas looked at the ground, then at Lauren, and then moved past her to remove himself from the confines of the thicket. He poked his head outside and then quickly stepped outside, trying to look unsuspicious. Lauren followed him. "That is how I know you. I think it was… the second time Morithil and I ventured into your world, that's when I saw you. You were walking down the street in a group of people, and it hit me like a revelation. Like I already knew you."

Lauren turned his words over in her head as they walked back to Narthas' house. "How did you cope with being there? Didn't you weaken or something? I would have thought, with all that we did to the world, that you'd die if you went there. Like a mortal going to Aman."

"Morithil wasn't affected at all. He said it smelled like Angband, and didn't care much. I, on the other hand, was weakened considerably. The stench of smoke and filth in the air, on the ground… I was glad that at least there were trees and green left. I got very sick the first time I went through."

"Hm."

They walked back to the apartment in silence, contemplating what had just happened, what had happened in the past, and what it all meant to the future.

Before Lauren and Narthas even stepped over the threshold of his house, they could both hear Nicole shrieking about Morithil. Then there were deeper, manlier cries of "HELP ME!" and thumping all about the upper floor. The young ranger and her Elf just stood in the doorway, listening to the cacophony. Suddenly Quinn stumbled down the stairs.

"She's gone crazy!" he said with a look of panic smeared across his face.

"She's always been crazy," replied Lauren nonchalantly.

Quinn was still standing on the stairs when more thumps were heard, and then the angel made a scared noise and dashed from the stairs and Morithil came crashing down, with Nicole stuck to his back. He looked just as shocked and horrified as Quinn.

"Get her off me!" he cried, struggling to wrench the girl from her vice grip on him. She had a huge smile on her face and was talking incoherently.

And then she said: "No! You'll have to cut off my arms and legs first!"

"_TEREVA! Amin umuva tanya!_" Morithil said in a crazed manner as he dashed around a corner.

"_Ai! N'croma he, Morithil!_" Narthas said, running after them to make sure Morithil wouldn't actually try and cut off Nicole's limbs.

Lauren waited a moment before walking in their wake, following the noise and the streams of Elvish. She passed through a hallway and had entered another large space where she found Morithil on the floor with Nicole stuck to his front side, and Narthas trying to convince her to let him go.

"But Narthas, he's Morithil!" she reasoned. "I made him! He's my adorable little son of Melko!" Morithil made a gagging noise at her last comment. After a minute, she suddenly jumped up and smacked him upside the head. Hard. Lauren was almost sure that Morithil would've seen spots for a second.

"OW! What the bloody 'ell was that for!" he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

"THAT'S for making me write dozens of pages of fanfiction about you! And what do I get in return? Not even so much as a hug!" She folded her arms and stabbed him with her eyes.

"If a hug is all you wanted," he shouted. "Then why din't you ask for one! You din't have to jump me!" He looked her up and down. "Besides," Morithil said flatly. "You smell bad."

The room went dead silent. Narthas took a step back, Quinn found the relative safety of a corner, and Lauren braced herself for the bomb that was ready to drop. She looked at Nicole, whose eyes were molten anger. She could've sworn that there was even a vein popping out of her neck.

"What… did… you… say?"

"I said you smell like a night girl." He sat on the floor with his legs stretched out before him, leaning back onto his hands. He obviously was completely unaware of the long-term effects of a female rampage. Of course there were always immediate injuries that resulted, but there was also the emotional fallout that could potentially last for years.

But Nicole just stood there like a statue, smoldering. Lauren and Narthas exchanged looks. After a minute, she leapt on him, pinned Morithil to the floor with her foot and smacked him on the side of the head so hard, that the sound echoed through the apartment. Morithil made a defeated noise and closed his eyes tight, biting his bottom lip. Then she stepped off of him and stormed out of the room. Lauren and Narthas made eye contact once again and each nodded. The elf went to Morithil and Lauren followed

Nicole.

"What an asshole," she said, picking her words carefully.

"Yeah, I know." Nicole's tone was far from what she thought it would be. She was calm and casual, as if nothing had happened.

Lauren was concerned. "But aren't you mad?"

"Nah, not really." She was looking for something in the washroom. "I know Morithil's an ass. I created him to be that way, and I expected it. I just wanted to smack him again for not giving me a hug."

Lauren laughed.

"And I also just thought it would be good to put a little dent in his everlasting ego. It's so big, not even the Valar could contain it," Nicole chuckled. She bent down and rummaged through a cupboard, and found what she was looking for: a towel. She held it up triumphantly and walked past Lauren.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a bath," she said. "Morithil was right. We do kinda smell a little. We've been on the road for almost two weeks now without showering."

"But we don't even sweat."

"C'mon. Slaughtering orcs and riding horses isn't the cleanest activity in the world. Go ask Narthas where the baths are. I want Morithil to think I'm still pissed at him."

Nicole waited by the door and Lauren trudged upstairs again. But, upon hearing voices in the room, she stopped to do a little eavesdropping.

"_…n'eithel e i'dol._" It was the sound of Morithil's voice. Too bad you can't really eavesdrop unless you know what the people you're listening to are talking about.

"_Maa. Manka Nicole an mellon en Lauren, san'he n'anra amada."_

Morithil grunted. "_Amin estelra."_

There was a pause.

"_Lauren mae palurinandolye_."

"Lle lakwenien!"

"_Eithel, lye queen en'ta, ar he sane ta eithel._"

"Hm," Morithil snorted. He sighed. "So it's these three kids that we've been waiting for these six years? These are the people that I predicted coming? I know that's probably true, I just don't get the significance."

"Well, neither do I," Narthas said in a low voice. "But I know her. That's Lauren. That's the same one I saw on the street that one time. Apparently she knows everything about me." He lowered his voice even further, and Lauren strained to hear. "_He yeste tengwien aminarn n'ala he gurthe._"

"Well, you do have a bit of an unorthodox life, you know. You're not one of those pretty boy run-of-the-mill Elves that all the Sues drool over." Narthas groaned. "Wait. Does she know about Luinil too?"

She didn't hear him respond, and could only assume he nodded.

"That's a little bit scary."

There was another pause, then Morithil said slowly: "_He naa sii' lastien a'lye._"

"Alright Lauren," Narthas called to her from within the room. His voice was kind, yet still a little chiding. "You can come in."

Lauren made herself known and stepped over the doorway and walked into the room, roses blooming across her face. "I, uh—"

"Nuh. It's all right. And if you know Sindarin, then good for you. But we would appreciate it if you wouldn't eavesdrop."

Lauren looked at the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Your friend Nicole packs quite a punch," Morithil said. "I'm going to feel this for the rest of the day." He pointed to his head.

Lauren laughed a little. "Yeah, she can fight if she really wants to." She swallowed. "What I actually came up here to ask was if you could direct us in the direction of any places that we might be able to clean ourselves off in?"

Morithil suddenly roared with laughter. "Aha! So she followed my advice!" He said. "Baths for you two would benefit us all."

"Oh, shut your face," Lauren said. "Besides. Don't you think Quinn needs a bath?"

"Nah. He smelled like rain and _lembas_ to me."

Damn those angels! Always so goddamned perfect! And here she was, smelling –and probably looking- like a sty. The girl! The girls should be better off than the boys. But no. Quinn had to ruin everything. That damned everything-ruiner.

"Come on Morithil, let's give them a tour," Narthas suggested as he walked over to where Lauren stood. Morithil simply gave a little groan.

"Miril and Thinroch need proper housing, too," Lauren said, looking up at her friend.

"Yeah, Morithil," Narthas teased in a mockingly childish way. "Don't make such a stink. Come with us."

"Augh. Fine."

The Maia stood up and cracked his back. As Lauren looked at him when he wasn't slouching, she guessed he stood at a good six feet and three inches give or take. Narthas was just over six feet. Morithil followed them out and downstairs. Nicole had taken to sitting in a comfy chair and looking at one of Narthas' many design sketchbooks.

"Be careful with that book," Narthas warned Nicole. "That one holds all of my notes from back in the Second Age when I oversaw the building of Imrahil's Palace in Dol Amroth. I'm still surprised all the pages are still there."

"This is so awesome," Nicole said, still flipping through the pages. She looked up after a brief moment and met Morithil's gaze. She held it for a painful moment, and surprisingly enough, he was the first to break away. Lauren caught Nicole grin to herself, and she laughed inwardly at her friend's little game.

Morithil was out the door first, but Narthas beckoned for the ladies to go before himself. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, there was a voice inside.

"Hey! Hey you guys!" Quinn was running to catch the door before it closed. There was a closed book in his hand, and a finger was stuck in between the pages to hold his place. "Where are you going?"

"The _attawen_ wish to take a bath, because they're filthy," Narthas said, however the last statement was undoubtedly directed at Morithil.

"Uh..?"

"You're welcome to stay if you want. I wouldn't recommend spending too much time in the open anyways, considering what you are," Narthas said, as they started walking across the bridge. He chuckled to himself. "Just don't drink all of the liquor!"

Lauren assumed that they had left the boy behind because he didn't follow them to the forest floor. Miril and Thinroch neighed as they came upon them. "Hey Morithil, take these two valiant steeds to the stables, would you?"

"Can do," he said and whistled for the horses. They followed without hesitation and he walked away down another path that led to another cluster of buildings a little ways away.

"Now," Narthas said, taking the young Elf and ranger in another direction. "To the baths."

"So what's this portal thing that you two were arguing about earlier?" Nicole asked, flinging her towel over her shoulder.

Narthas folded his arms behinid his back and continued, his feet making no sound on the cobblestones. "You _do_ have to keep quiet about it, you know." Nicole drew her lips together in a tight line. Then he whispered: "I don't want anyone finding out except you guys. Oh. And Morithil too, of course."

"I see."

"Maybe I can tell you while you're taking a bath."

"Wait… what?"

Narthas laughed. "No, not like that. I'll tell you through the canvas."

Lauren, and Nicole, still didn't know what he was talking about until they got to the baths. Narthas took them over to a stream, with deep pools appearing up and down the length of the water. However, these pools weren't visible due to small tents set up over the pools to allow those bathing some privacy. Beside the base of one smaller Mallorn, there was a small house. "Wait here," Narthas said. He went over to the house and stepped inside. After a moment he returned with two towels and two bars of soap. "Here you go."

Lauren and Nicole took their towels and soap. "Is this, like, complimentary of being in Lorien? Like a five star resort?"

Narthas laughed. "No, but it's wasn't expensive. Don't worry about it."

"Sweet. Do we get to go in whichever tent we want?"

"Uh, unless it's taken."

The girls ran off and picked adjacent tents, and put a stool in between them so Narthas could talk to either if they want.

Lauren dashed into her tent and was absolutely thrilled to find a warm pool of water from the stream running under the tent. She closed the flaps to the canvas and tied them up good and tight. She put her clothes on a small table as well as the towel before jumping into the water.

"How is it?" Her Elf asked from outside.

"Great!" she called, and splashed around.

"What about you, Nicole?"

Lauren heard her from the other tent. "Awesome."

She grabbed the bar of soap and began scrubbing all the grime off her, watching it as it sank to the bottom and got carried away by the current.

"We need to come up with names for you," she heard Narthas say after a few minutes. "Because, frankly, Lauren and Nicole isn't going to cut it in Middle-earth."

"Okay! Pick a name for me then." Lauren always had a thing when it came to names. They held a strange sort of importance to her, so if Narthas would give her a Middle-earth name, then she would cherish it just like every name someone gave to her.

"Hmmmm…." He began. "Well, I've already got one for Nicole."

"Really?" she asked.

"Nimedhel."

Nicole gasped. "That's really pretty. What does it mean?"

"White Elf," he said.

"HAHAHAHA!" Lauren burst out laughing. "That's perfect for her! She's so white! CRACKER!"

Nicole started laughing too. "Hey, you're white too, you know!"

"Not a blonde, blue-eyed Aryan like you! I'm half beans!" Lauren was laughing so hard, she almost swallowed water. "Alright, alright. What's mine, Narthas?"

"Well. That's a tough one," he said. "Give me a minute." A pause. "Aha! I have it: Fealai."

"And what's that mean?"

He chuckled. "That means you're the spirit of mirth. It's either Fealai, or Ranalai: mirthful wanderer."

"I like Fealai," Lauren said. "It's a bit more feminine, but it sounds kinda like Felix."

"That's so leet," Nicole said.

"So," Narthas said. "I want to hear about your adventure. Tell me about Purgatory… I haven't seen it since they remolded it."

"Purgatory? You mean, that place between Heaven and Hell from Dante's Inferno?"

"Yes, well, that's where The Waypoint is. It's an actual building in Purgatory, so there's more to time and matter in that place than just the building itself and the hundreds that go through there every day." Narthas chuckled. "It was pretty small and boring when I saw it. They didn't expect so many fans when they first built it."

"So wait. How were you able to leave Middle-earth and go there? Wouldn't you have, like, imploded or something?"

The elf laughed. "No! No. Elrond took me."

"I thought he didn't like you?"

"He doesn't. But he knows the value of not burning down one's bridges, as you might say. Anyways. He figured I was one of the best candidates for the whole fan operation, seeing as how I have a knack for slipping through systems and eluding death. He also vaguely knew about Morithil, and could tell that though he was a strange one, there wasn't much more malevolence about him than slipping away unnoticed the morning after a one night stand."

"Ah."

"So he told me, in grueling detail, about the plans for what would be going underway with organizing the fans and such, showed me around Purgatory along with the herald of Mandos. I know DERIF inside and out thanks to that man, and know just how to evade their punishments for a sly troublemaker such as me." Lauren could so tell that he was grinning to himself smugly.

"Ah, well, don't get too cocky now, you. It's not like you've done much more than open that, uh… well you know."

Narthas laughed, and she caught something he said under his breath. No. It couldn't have been what she thought he said. It's must've been nothing, so she shrugged it off.

"I'm getting all wrinkly!" she heard Nicole cry out with mirth from her tent several meters away.

"Yah, Narthas. Me too."

"You guys have clothes?"

"Uh…"

He sighed. "Can I take that as a negative?"

"Yessir."

"Alright. I'll be right back. Though mine will probably be a little big for you…"

"I'll deal. It's better than running around Middle-earth in my birthday suit."

Narthas didn't say anything, and she assumed that he must've blushed in embarrassment. Nicole just laughed.

"I haven't heard anyone say "birthday suit" in such a long time!"

There was a silence as Lauren stepped out of the stream and wrapped the towel around herself. She was so glad that it was summer, or else she'd be freezing at this time of day.

"He's hot," Lauren heard Nicole say out of the blue.

"What?"

"He's frickin' hot."

"Oh. Well, of course he is. I invented him. You think I'd create an ugly elf?"

Nicole laughed.

"Alright you two!" Narthas' voice was a little ways away, but she heard him approaching his seat between the bathing tents. Lauren head his footsteps come up to the tied flap of her enclosure, and an arm stuck itself in, holding a wad of clothing. "For you," he said. Lauren took it, grinning. He walked towards Nicole. "And for you."

Lauren shook out the clothes to reveal a grey tunic, a bit large for her, but seemingly a bit small for her elf friend. There was a white undershirt, and black faded hose. When she was finished dressing, she was surprised to find that it fitted better than she expected. Lauren emerged from the tent, her wet towel in hand.

Narthas looked her over with scrutinizing eyes. "We can't have you running around looking like a knave forever, but until we get you fitted for a dress, that'll have to do."

"A knave?" Lauren said. "HA! Now tell me, Narthas, would a knave have a pair of these—"

"AUGH!" Nicole stumbled out of her tent with visible frustration. "What size is this!" she demanded.

Narthas took a step back from her. "I gave you some of Morithil's clothes."

"AHA! That's why the sleeves go down to my goddamned knees."

"We'll need to get her into a proper dress as quickly as possible," Narthas whispered to Lauren, nodding exuberantly.

As they walked back, Lauren trudged on behind Narthas and Nicole and listened as her friend talked his ear off. What exactly were they talking about? Lauren sighed. She didn't know. Odds were, she wasn't even talking about anything important.

"Hey, where are we going?" Lauren asked when she first noticed they were going in a different direction than that of Narthas' apartment in the canopy.

"Oh. You want dinner, don't you?"

"Yes, but—"

Narthas chuckled. "Just shut up and walk."

Lauren laughed to herself.

They soon reached a small ring of stones and in the middle of it was a fire. A tall, dark, hunched figure was tending the hearth, and he stood to greet them. There was a large, dark thing in each hand.

"I thought it would be courteous to retrieve these for the ladies," he said. Lauren walked up to Morithil and found that he was holding their saddlebags. "I also found a few… strange items concealed in one," the half-blood said snidely.

"Yeah? What about it?"

Morithil laughed through his nose. "Nothing, nothing."

"You never told me what was for dinner," said a voice off to the right. Lauren turned her head to see the very faint glow of Quinn step into the ring of stones and sit down. His stomach gurgled loudly.

"Opossum," Morithil said, not at all averting his gaze from the flames.

Quinn gagged. "Gross! Are you serious!" he cried out.

Morithil laughed. "No you half-wit. We're having pheasant."

"It's quite pleasant," Narthas chimed in. The look on Quinn's face, however, did not go away.

Lauren walked around the fire as Nicole and Narthas sat down on the rocks, examining the table littered with fresh foodstuffs. There was a big bowl of fruit -mostly apples- and she picked out a delicious-looking one, and began munching on it. Blood type A's needed to have a hefty portion of fruits and veggies. She proceeded to sit down again.

"So," Narthas said, addressing Lauren. "You never answered my question earlier. About the Waypoint and your adventure from Rivendell to Lorien? It seems you've done it without a single genuine Middle-earth resident in your midst."

"Yes we did," Lauren said proudly. "I pretty much did all the navigating."

"Did not," Nicole interjected.

"Except the times when I did. Which was all the time."

Narthas laughed.

"Anways," she continued. "So we started out in Rivendell, as you know. I, uh, I bought some things from the B&N as Morithil found out already… and I met a friend there. Mika, an elf. She told us pretty much everything that goes on around here."

"Ha!" Morithil interjected. "She only _thinks_ she knows what goes on 'round here."

"Really? What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that most of what you see concerning the fans is only the tip of the iceberg. But we digress. Please, continue your story."

Lauren paused and looked at him, but did continue. "Anyways. So we were there for only about two days pretty much, and we got Glorfindel to lend us horses. Come to think of it, we didn't even pay him for it…"

"…which probably means that he wants them back eventually," Narthas said.

"Probably. Anyways, so we left, but Mika didn't want us to go, which was understandable, but I really really really want to get to Gondor, I donno… sometime this year." Lauren laughed at herself. "But it seems that we made good time if we got this far in just shy of a fortnight. We traveled south for a while, and it was actually the night when we left Rivendell, that Quinn showed up. Scared the shit outta us.

"We went on southward like that for a few days, before nearly running into a band of orcs. We hid up in the trees while they passed, but it was the next day when we had a close and personal encounter with three of them." Lauren saw that Narthas had scooted to the edge of his seat and was listening now with piqued interest. "Yep," she went on. "Almost got killed. Fortunately, I've got skills and we took them all out without getting too badly hurt. They pretty much all went for me because I'm the only armed one, but while I kept them distracted, Quinn and Nicole were pelting them with rocks. Pretty big ones, too. Knocked two of them out. The horses disposed of the third. The orcs weren't dead, or at least we didn't want to take the chance that they'd come to in a few hours and look for us so that they can get their orcy revenge. So it was up to me to, uh, dispose of them." Lauren winced at the memory. "Stabbed them each a few times in the chest area. You know. Just to make sure." A pause. Lauren looked up to see that Morithil was busying himself with the meat. "So we hurriedly continued south for a few more days, until we came to that place where the gate to Moria was. We noticed that the gate was very different: rubble was cleared away, the trees were uprooted and out of sight, the lake was almost dry, and the most curious of all: the gate was rebuilt.

"I unknowingly opened the thing after investigating the new pattern that was engraved into it. It was a big gaping thing that led into a very dark, very scary place, so we hid. A few dwarves came out, but they looked like orcs from where we were. After looking at them for a moment, I, _again _was the bravest of the three of us, and got up and ran over to them."

Narthas had his chin rested on his fist as he listened, and made a drawn out noise from the back of his throat that sounded like a "Hmmm".

"We followed them in, and they didn't take much liking to us…"

Narthas chuckled. "Yes, they do that sometimes."

"Haha. Anyways. Yeah. After getting lost in Moria for a while, we stumbled upon the dwarves' base of operations somewhere several hours inside. I ran across someone else there that I knew, a deaf friend, and from what I could discern, she said that the dwarves had helped her come up with an entirely new gestural language and alphabet just for her, so that they could communicate in the dark.

"After getting through Moria, they pretty much shoved us out of their back door, and we continued on our way.

"We rode along through Lorien, and camped later that evening to rest. Nicole wanted to read her books that she bought, and Quinn… yeah, I donno what Quinn wanted to do other than be Quinn. I went to go take a swim because it's so damned hot and humid here." Lauren paused, and saw that Narthas had taken to staring at the dirt at his feet, but his listening was just as intent as before. She inhaled deeply. "But it was weird… while I was swimming, I could have sworn someone was watching me." She glanced around, and suspiciously noted that Narthas was biting the corner of his lip a little less than idly. "I even SAW someone scuttle off and away into the forest."

Lauren's head jerked when she heard Morithil cough once and loudly, but discovered it was because the smoke was coming right at him.

"Luckily though," she continued, then added: "For him of course, I didn't see him again that night."

"And why was he lucky?" Narthas asked when she paused.

"He would've been in a sorry state of affairs when I was done with him." She made as if she were swinging and stabbing a sword into someone in front of her. Narthas chuckled.

"But yeah. We continued along then the next morning after getting very little sleep, but at the border of the inner forest thing, we came across some uh… let's just say they were some of the most testosterone-filled elves I've ever seen."

"Ugh," Nicole groaned. "I didn't like that part one bit."

Narthas raised his eyebrows at her and looked at her with curious scrutiny before turning his attention back to Lauren.

She inhaled deeply before continuing on. "As I was saying, we came across some unmistakably male elves posing as DERIF border patrol. There were three or four of them, I already forgot.."

"Four," Nicole said.

"Yeah. Four of them. Anyways. They stopped us and demanded that they search us, for what I still don't know… but they seemed to like it too much. They were going through our saddlebags and harassing Quinn and I. Then there was this one guy that was frisking down Nicole, and he seemed to be having a very good time. Inappropriate contact, I would call it!"

"Hmm," Narthas rumbled quietly. "Do you remember his name?"

"Oh, I donno. He was about six or seven inches taller than Nicole, had long, light brown hair, and had dark eyes. Oh yeah! There was also a little scar on his jaw next to his ear."

"That sounds like Orophir, Narthas," Morithil said, looking up from the meat.

"It does," he said. "You know, I think I'll go have a nice little chat with him tomorrow about it."

"Thank you!" Nicole said.

"Haha, no problem, little lady."

"Where was I. Oh right. So as it turns out, I would've gotten in ginormous trouble for several reasons… They discovered my _luggage_ I brought back from Rivendell, and also I almost sliced the neck of one." Lauren grinned innocently.

"You WHAT?" Narthas said, laughing.

"Yeah," Quinn said, munching on an apple. "She does that sometimes."

Narthas just laughed even harder. "I know just how she is."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "But yeah. Like I said, I would have gotten into really deep trouble for that stuff, but luckily… they let us go."

"Let you go?" Morithil said suddenly. "How in the bowels of Angband did you convince them to do that?"

"Well, apparently, someone told them to let a fangirl by the name of Lauren through without question."

"Oh really…" Morithil said, suddenly looking at his good Elvish friend.

But Narthas just threw his hands up. "Hey! I had nothing to do with it."

Lauren studied her character for a brief moment as he was busy laughing and eating one of Morithil's pheasant kabob things, suddenly deciding that he was a very likely individual for having an S-type personality. Or course there was technically only A and B type personalities, Lauren took the liberty to create a new category, seeing as how there were plenty of people that would fit under it anyway.

At any rate, however, her newly invented S-type personality stood for sly, secretive, sneaky, stealthy. He wasn't stupid, and in fact, quite the opposite: sickeningly smart. Lauren had a gut feeling he was the type to be controlling the great Oz from behind a curtain.

"Huh?" Lauren said, snapping out of her thoughts.

"I said, would you like some food," Nicole repeated, shaking some meat on a stick in front of her face.

"Heck yes," was her reply before snatching the comestible from her friend and shoveling it into her mouth. Morithil tossed her a hunk of warm bread, and the baked good met the same fate as the meat. She licked her lips and beamed stupidly.

"So anyways," Nicole said, finishing her bite of bread. "That's our story. Whether you like it or not."

"Hey," Morithil said in his sleazy British accent. "I dunnae 'bout Narthas, but I liked it."

"Good story," the elf said. "And good job tackling all that stuff on your own. I mean, I donno if I would've had the capacity to act as maturely as you three did had the journey faced me when I was what… sixteen? Seventeen?"

Morithil burst out laughing. "Haha, his balls hadn't even dropped yet when he was seventeen!" he howled before getting hit in the side of the head with a small rock. Unfortunately, that only made him laugh harder. Also unfortunately, Lauren, Nicole, and Quinn had taken to following Morithil's display of childishness.

Narthas then said something very, very crude to Morithil in elvish, then began to come up with an explanation. "And I was **not** seventeen," he spat. "I was twelve."

Lauren and Nicole continued giggling though at the whole idea of the situation to begin with, and Narthas just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at the adolescents.

"So uh," Narthas began, trying to change the topic of conversation. "Do you three need to sleep at all?"

Nicole shook her head. "Nope. We're kinda dead."

"Ah. Sorry I didn't know. We hardly get any fans around here. But anyways. I need to sleep, Morithil doesn't. You four can have fun all night and whatever, but I would appreciate it if you didn't wake me up."

"Kaykay."

"Sure thing."

A moment of content silence as everyone felt their food digesting, or dissolving in the three youngin's case.

"Hey Narthas," Lauren said.

"Yeah?"

"Tell us some stories."

"Hm." The noise came more from the depths of his throat than it was a vocalization. "Well. What do you want to hear?" Lauren could see that he was searching his mind, dredging up his entire life's story, trying to sift through all of the content that many would deem inappropriate for any such storytelling session.

"An adventure story." She grinned.

"An adventure…" He took a moment and rubbed his chin with his hand before making an 'aha!' sort of noise and leaning forward from where he sat. "Alright," he began. "It was my fourteenth winter. For some reason, it was harsher and whiter that I had yet seen it to be, and I spent much of my time indoors. But one morning I awoke and saw the sun peering at me through my window, and I realized that I longed to venture outside and into the perils that the snow-laden basin of Gondolin that awaited me.

"So I gathered two of my good friends, Voronwë and Ethelas, and we took it upon ourselves to journey into the snow together, ready to conquer what vile spawn of the ice that lay in wait…

* * *

**(More Rough) Translations: **

Please note that some of these words may not be completely authentic. They're from the Grey Company language resource. -cough-

_TEREVA! Amin umuva tanya!_  
FINE! I'll do that!

_Ai! N'croma he, Morithil!_  
Hey! Don't hurt her, Morithil!

…_n'either e i'dol._  
…not well in the head.

_Maa. Manka Nicole an mellon en Lauren, san'he n'anra amada._  
Look. If Nicole is Lauren's friend, then she can't be too foolish.

_Amin estelra._  
I certainly hope so.

_Lauren mae palurinandolye._  
Lauren saw our portal.

_Lle lakwenien!_  
Are you kidding!

_Lye queen en'ta, ar he sane ta eithel._  
We talked about it and she took it well.

_He yeste tengwien aminarn n'ala he gurthe._  
She began writing my biography before she died.

_He naa sii' lastien a'lye._  
She's listening to us right now.


	7. An Interlude

And so Lauren presently lifted her head from a pillow on the couch in a painfully tired manner, before letting it drop back down against. A whining groan escaped her as she turned her back to the bright light that filtered into the room.

It was probably another hours or so later that she woke again, this time greeted by the smell of bacon and sausage—or at least their Middle-earth equivalents. Lauren picked her head up once more then sat up fully this time, scratching her head and twisting her body around in a stretch that managed to pop a few joints in various places.

"Oh good," a voice said from behind. "You're up finally."

She turned her head and blinked her right eye, then the left, allowing her neck to crack as she saw Narthas in the adjacent kitchen, cutting up fruit.

"Morning," she croaked.

Lauren faced her original direction, suddenly irritated by the inconsistent blinking of each one of her eyes, and looked at the sleeping form of Nicole heaped on the floor like a rag doll.

"What happened to _her_?" Lauren asked the room.

Narthas answered. "Morithil convinced her to sample his mead. Unfortunately, her alcohol tolerance isn't nearly as strong as a half-god's." He chuckled.

"I can uh, I can imagine," she said, still looking at Nicole, then suddenly feeling a little disgusted at her friend. "It's all fun and games though," Lauren sarcastically replied.

"You don't sound convinced."

"Yeah, well, I have a little bit of a vendetta against all forms of recreational and superfluous consumption of mind-altering chemicals. Drinking and smoking and such. I mean, once I find out you do any of that, you automatically get downgraded in my book."

"Hey! I drink," he said. "That mean I've been demoted too?"

"No! No. I mean, you're certainly OLD enough, god knows. It more applies to people of less maturity. And besides: I wrote you as a drinker, which means I don't mind you doing it."

"Ah. Well, you don't have to worry about having to impose your wrath on her when she wakes up. I know for a fact how hellish Morithil-induced hangovers can be."

Lauren laughed tiredly before standing up and joining her character in the kitchen. She ninja'd a sausage slice from over the hearth, and then a piece of fruit as well.

"Speaking of Morithil," she asked, looking around. "Where is that dirty bastard?"

"Oh, I don't know. He was gone when I woke up. He's usually never gone past noon though. Love as he might his mead and maids, its in food where his loyalty really lies."

Lauren laughed. "You got any, uh.." she nudged him and grinned broadly. "Women yourself?"

"Hey, watch it. You know that's a touchy subject with me. I'm not as promiscuous as Morithil, you know."

"So… no one since Faelivrin?"

Narthas fell quiet.

"Jesus!" she exclaimed, making a wild gesture. "So you haven't gotten any in years!"

Narthas shot her a look and began to say something, but she would have none of it.

"That's it. You need a girlfriend."

"No I do not!" he said. "I am a bitter and lonely soul who swore off relationships since the love of my life sailed away on that ship four years ago."

"Bitter and lonely my ass. Here. I'll hook you up with someone."

"No," he stated flatly and shaking his head. "No way. I don't want you hunting for a woman just so I can get laid."

"Tsh. You know you want my help."

The elf just looked down at her then sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

"Who's getting laid now?" A tired-looking messenger of Gabriel stumbled into the kitchen.

"Narthas," Lauren said proudly and folded her arms. She knew she had painted him into a corner: if he said no, he'd look like a pussy. If he said yes, then that meant he had agreed to her offer.

The elf groaned. "Apparently Lauren's going to set me up on a blind date."

Quinn paused, then started laughing hysterically. "Lauren?! Playing **_matchmaker_**? You have got to be kidding!"

"Oh yeah?" Narthas cocked an eyebrow.

"Hahaha, oh God. Do you have any idea the kinds of women she's going to find for you?"

"Yes, actually. They'll probably be like her." He laughed. "Fiery, clever, and with a crude –if not offensive- sense of humor."

It was Lauren's turn to laugh. "Narthas likes a challenge."

"I'm not so sure about this one, though."

"Oh, STFU. Work with me here."

"Alright. Fine, I will," the elf said, conceding defeat. And then: "Will someone go wake up Nicole? The food's done."

"Okay," Narthas said, pushing his empty plate away from him. "So what's the deal with you guys."

"What do you mean?" Lauren asked with a mouthful of apple.

"Well, what are your plans now? I know that you," he pointed at Lauren. "Are wanting to go to Gondor, which is good. I've got friends there." He turned to Quinn and Nicole. "And you two are wanting to go to Mirkwood."

"Correct," Quinn said.

"Unfortunately, I don't have friends there. In fact, I've got a few little enemies there."

"That's fine though. You aren't going with them, right? I figured Morithil was going to escort them over there." Lauren tossed her apple core out the window.

"True."

"So how many maps do you have of Middle-earth, Narthas? I don't think I'll need many; I've got a really good sense of direction," Lauren said.

Narthas looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, then burst out laughing. "You can't be serious," he said. "That's hundreds of miles of wilderness you would have to travel by yourself, little lady. You may have a good sense of direction, decent skills in self-defense, a horse, and a stubborn attitude, but I think I'm safe in assuming that you don't have much in the way of nature-smarts."

Lauren huffed. "I suppose you're right. Street smarts are near useless around here."

"Exactly. I'm positive you wouldn't know how to find water if you couldn't hear it, or know how to make a fire without matches, or how to hunt and prepare wild game. You'll definitely be needing me."

"Alright, fine fine fine. I get your point."

Quinn chuckled. "She gets like that if you start chipping away at her inflamed ego."

"I do not have an inflamed ego, you ass!" She swiftly brought the palm of her hand square with the base of his head.

"Now, now," the elf intervened. "There's no need for violence."

"Violence? Ha!" Quinn said, re-adjusting his glasses after getting smacked. "You'll have tons of fun trying to keep her from being violent on your little road trip together. The Lord's Prayer takes longer to say than the amount of time that she can abstain from hitting something."

"Shut up, you," she snarled.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a door opening, and heavy footfalls in the other room. "Morithil!" Narthas called. "You're taking the kids to Mirkwood!"

The mixed-blood peered around the corner of the dining room doorway. "What? Already?" He walked into the room and took a seat next to Quinn. "They just got here yesterday."

"Tsh," Lauren said. "Not today. Maybe later this week."

"I see."

"You guys don't have anything to do, right? I mean… will escorting us interfere with what you've got going on?" Lauren looked from elf to Maia.

"Well, that coffee shop job was only to keep me busy while…" he paused. "Well, to keep me busy. In between helping redesign Osgiliath and all."

"Ah." Lauren eyed him warily. "I see. And what about you Morithil?"

Morithil just cocked his brow and looked at her. "I never have plans," he breathed, leaning in close. Yep, he had been drinking.

"Yeah, I figured." Lauren said, turning from an intoxicated Morithil. "Alright then. Perhaps we should take the time to chart out our courses today?" She suggested, looking at the other three faces around the table.

"Naw, I wanna go exploring today," Lauren heard from behind her. She turned to see a very haggard-looking Nicole standing in the doorway.

Quinn was giggling to himself, but Narthas was the first to speak. "You sure you want to? You don't look like you're in any shape to do anything other than vomit." He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, shut up," she groaned, pushing back a messy tendril of dirty blonde hair. "I'm hungry. Where's the food?" Narthas gestured to the door behind him, and she lazily stalked past.

"She doesn't make a very regal elf," Quinn whispered when she was out of earshot. Everyone at the table laughed with closed mouths and nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Lauren said, clearing her throat, determined to continue the discussion. "So Quinn and Nicole are seeing stuff today. I would still like to prepare for our long-ass journey ahead, Narthas. Would you mind helping?"

"Sure thing," he said.

And so it was that Lauren and Narthas stayed inside all day, going through old maps, creating checklists of supplies, and telling stories and jokes. Lauren was fascinated and stupidly excited every time Narthas opened his mouth to say something about the Old World. The Silmarillion was her favorite out of Tolkien's works, tied with The Hobbit, and the legends surrounding the sunken land of Beleriand intrigued her beyond logical reason.

After a while, though, Narthas officially declared he was sick of talking, and instead wanted to hear some of Lauren's stories. After all, her smoggy world filled with light and noise was just as alien to him as his to her.

"Alright… what sort of tales do you want to hear?" she asked, getting up from her papery mess on the floor to sit in a proper piece of furniture. Narthas followed suit.

"Anything. Childhood frivolity, misadventures with your friends, dramatic events, bizarre happenings… anything."

"Hmm." Lauren gave it a good think. What was one of her favorite stories to tell people? Most of the best things she'd ever done happened in middle school… "Aha. Okay. The first one you get to hear is the 'Halloween Episode'."

"Halloween. That one holiday of yours where you celebrate all things dark and macabre and horrible?"

"Well, yeah. In lots of cultures, the days around that time are all thought of as a time to celebrate the dead and whatnot. But the modern version involves people dressing up in costumes of all sorts, eating lots of candy, carving faces into pumpkins, and getting scared shitless."

"Gotcha."

"Okay. So for this Halloween, I was, I think…13 years old. A cute little bugger still trying to find her place in the world. I had recently found some new friends who were into darker themes and being outcasts and whatnot, so that was a fresh change. I spent Halloween with two of my best friends, Jordin and Crystal, and it was a Friday night, so I was going to spend the night at Jordin's grandparent's house (with whom she and her mom and siblings lived with at the time).

"So I got there, and we went tromping around the neighborhood going from door to door, collecting our bags of candy and walking through a "haunted cul-de-sac" type for a few hours. It was getting cold, and late, and we were getting tired, so we decided to retire for the night with our sugary bounty.

"Jo went in the house first, and confirmed with her grandparents that we were to spend the night. Crystal and I waited outside for a minute or two, sitting on the stoop, when she came back out and said "Uh, guys. I guess you can't spend the night anymore."

"And so by then, it was like, 10:30, which was a bit late for us 8th graders, At that point, calling our parents to pick us up didn't even enter into our minds, despite the terrifying situation. We decided at that point to go pay a visit to our friend Eric, who lived a block away, but we were turned down. After a few minutes of thinking, we paid a visit to another one of our friends, Russell, who lived a block away from Eric, but were also turned down. We went to go find one last friend, Ellyn, who also lived within a minute or two walking distance, but no one was home. At that point, it was just after 11, and it was really cold. I had one blanket with me, so we set it down on a street corner, and waited.

"After what seemed like forever, we decided to go ask Russell one more time, and were declined a place to sleep once more. However, across the street from Russell, there is a small hillside, and at the top of that hillside, is Eric's backyard. We saw a TV on in his pool house, and decided to investigate. After trekking though the thick ivy that covered the slope, I had to grab a stick to reach the window. I gave it a harsh tap, and Eric's sister came to the window. She asked what we wanted, and we said we were homeless for the night, so she so kindly invited us to her Halloween party with her friends. Needless to say, we were incredibly relieved.

"We spent the night watching scary movies with Jenny and a small group of her high school friends (who seemed so old and cool to us). We got through Psycho, A Nightmare on Elm Street… and a handful of other before we passed out on the floor. Wait. Why am I telling you that, you don't know movies." She laughed. "Anyways. We passed out on the floor at some ungodly hour, and I was freezing all night cause all I had was that one blanket, no pillow, and all there was to eat was the candy I had, which, by the way, when you're hungry, doesn't do the trick.

"We woke up the next morning incredibly stiff. We had ramen noodles for breakfast, and spent the remainder of the day on Eric's trampoline, playing a game we made up like hackey-sack. It was a really good Halloween, all in all, even though I went home later that day tired, hungry, stiff, and gross. I miss my friends…" Her voice dropped off as she started to reminisce.

"What happened to them?" Narthas broke her train of thought.

"Oh. Well, my best friend, Jordin, moved away for high school, and one by one my other friends grew up and became other people… you know how it is. They changed. And for the worst, for the most part. I haven't heard from most of them in months or years."

"Did you still talk to Jordin before you died?"

"Oh, yeah. We'd see each other every few months and talk more than that. She was a 45 minute drive away, though."

Narthas cast her a quizzical look.

"About 30 miles."

"Ah. Yeah, I know where you're coming from. Good friends are hard to come by." He looked down, and Lauren noticed a hint of anger in his eyes. "Goddamnit, Boromir. You just had to go and get yourself killed." He said to himself.

Lauren looked at him for a moment before getting up from her chair and administering a hug to the million-year-old elf. 'It's not his fault, and it's not your fault," she said into the fabric of his shoulder.

The elf sighed deeply and just squeezed her harder. "I know, I know. He was meant to fall on Amon Hen. There was nothing anyone could have done to save him from himself." Narthas released her, and Lauren took to sitting on the arm of his chair. "It's just… he was a good lad. I nearly raised him myself, you know. And the last survivor of that family is Faramir, you know. I knew him just as much as Boromir, and he was a good man too. Damn, if I still feel this sad about it, I can only imagine what it must have been like for poor Faramir…"

"Well, you do know what it's like to lose your family, even though you were an only child."

Narthas only nodded in response, and Lauren suddenly felt a wave of horrible guilt. "I'm really sorry I made your parents die."

The elf jerked his head towards her in astonishment, and he looked at her with painful, surprised scrutiny with those insanely deep green eyes of his. "What are you talking about? You didn't kill my parents."

"Yes I did. I wrote your life story, remember? I wrote it in for them to die. Well, your mother at least. Maëglin was doomed anyway. Well, I suppose that's my fault too, because I wrote you as Maëglin's son to begin with," she said, detachedly. Then suddenly, she burst out: "Goddamnit! I ruined your life! I RUINED. YOUR LIFE."

"Don't you even think things like that," Narthas said harshly. "What's happened to me in my time here has nothing to do with you." It was his turn to give her a hug. "You didn't create me. You didn't create my circumstances. You didn't kill anyone, and you didn't ruin my life. And even if you did, I wouldn't trade it for anyone else's."

"Really?"

"Really." Narthas smiled and mussed her hair. "Now let's get out of this rut."

"I agree."

"Now. Would you mind telling me another story while we make our way to the training area?"

"Training area?"

"Yeah, I want to teach you to swordfight."

"Hey, I can swordfight."

"Flinging your arms around and injuring yourself doesn't count."

"How do you know how I fight?"

"Wild guess."

Lauren eyed him. "Right." She paused, and stood up. "You know, someone was stalking us in the woods the other day, and I didn't know who it was for a while, there…"

The elf swallowed. "Oh?"

"I think I may have a good idea now, though. Wanna hear my guess?"

"Well, if you, uh, if you insist."

Narthas was standing now, and the Ithilien Ranger circled around him, tapping her chin. When she came back around to face him, she poked a stiff finger into his sternum and cleared her throat. The elf was slightly red, and neither said anything for a few seconds.

"Come on, you lummox. Show me where these training grounds are," Lauren said, smirking.

The eight-thousand year old elf lord, military veteran, escaped slave, legendary architect, orphan and outcast obediently followed the girl out the door and to the grassy ground in silence.

* * *

"Good… you're doing good," Narthas panted. His breath was labored as his sleeve wiped across his brow, taking with it a layer of heavy perspiration and a small streak of dirt. "Better than I thought." 

Lauren looked up from where she stood, hunched over herself with hands on her knees, breathing heavily. "Oh? And you said…" A breath. "That I flailed." A breath. "Hehe." The young woman stood tall again and gripped her standard issue Ithilien ranger's sword tight in her hands, looking at her opponent. Swordfighting was a real workout. Not only was the sword heavy as hell, but you had to fling it around at your assailant too, and to top it all off, you had to do it with _tact._

"Well," the elf said, chuckling. "You still flail. You just flail with skill." He erupted into more laughter when Lauren lunged at him.

Side swipe, parry, dodge, parry low left, parry high right, hold, hold, hold, shove, regain balance, sidestep, thrust, block, meet middle, repel.

"As I said before, you're doing well."

Lauren was out of breath yet again. "Thanks," she huffed.

"Want some water?" Narthas asked, sheathing his sword.

Lauren nodded without a word, and followed her character out of the small clearing, back to his apartment.

"So," he began, throwing her a water flask. "Were you seeing anyone when you died?"

Lauren practically inhaled the water. "Huh? Oh, as in a boyfriend?"

He laughed. "Sure."

"Nah, not really." She chugged the thing empty, and put it on the counter.

"What do you mean, 'not really'."

"Well, not really. I don't think that he could have been called a boyfriend in the conventional sense."

"Explain."

"Uhm, it's slightly embarrassing, but…"

"Come on. You know every embarrassing bit about me. Why shouldn't it go both ways?"

"Alright, alright." Lauren sat down at the table. She saw a piece of twine there, so she picked it up and tied up her hair. "I met him on the internet."

Narthas was overcome by laughter.

"Hey! I'm being serious here, you ass."

"Haha, okay, okay. Continue."

"Anyways. We met on the internet three years ago. And… things took off, I guess. It took a while, really, for it to even evolve into a friendship, so the whole 'like' and 'love' business took even longer, as you can imagine. I mean, when I really give it a good think, it had to be more than _just_ coincidence that brought us together at that period in time…"

"What do you mean?" Narthas asked, cocking and eyebrow at her and taking the seat across from her.

"Okay. Think about it. I was 15 years old, and he was 16. We met in a chatroom that either of us rarely ever ventured into, the only occasion being the uttermost boredom. If I hadn't gotten fed up with the people in there and shouted "IS THERE ANYONE IN HERE THAT WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A CONVERSATION THAT ISN'T BASED ON THE SIZE OF MY BOOBS" we probably would have never hit it off, and the chance to meet him would be gone, because the odds that both of us would be in there again at the same time would be a trillion to one."

"Ah, I see," the elf said sagely. "Sounds like a little bit of that was at the hands of divine intervention."

"I wouldn't be surprised. The whole thing was really too good to be true, but it wasn't. We understood each other almost exactly, and had nearly the same perspective of the world as the other: jaded, pessimistic, and logical."

Narthas nodded.

"When we met, we hit it off right away as good friends. I quickly learned we had the same interests and music tastes, both of us had a passionate drive for the arts –though his forte was music and mine was visual-. We both had a quirky taste in movies and books… but the thing that caught me was the fact that he was extremely intelligent. He wasn't just your average guy, oh no. He was brilliant and introspective, like me. He understood where I was coming from when I told him I was rather introverted, and I sent him pictures of me and he said he thought I was pretty, even though by my own personal standards today I was the fugliest teenager to walk the earth. Haha.

"We got closer and closer with each conversation we had, and after a little more than a year, I got the courage to ask if I could call him. I would have to say that it was the most harrowing 9 minutes of my life, and to this day I don't know how my poor heart survived the situation. I was sure I was going to have a seizure or go into cardiac arrest or something.

"He went off to college that fall, and I didn't talk to him quite as much. I felt left behind, really, because he was moving on and I was still stuck going into my junior year of high school, but the feeling soon faded and we got into the swing of things again eventually. Sometimes we'd go through periods of speaking to each other two or three times a week, to at least once a day. It was great. We got so used to speaking on the phone that talking on the internet just wasn't quite the same anymore. We still used it for quick conversations, and for arguing, but there was just something about hearing his voice that was just short of millions of times better than reading his words on the screen. Ideas transmitted through a heartless program." She sighed, and smiled.

"Did you ever get to meet him?"

Her smile disappeared. "No. I was planning on meeting him this summer after school got out, and flying to New York to see him. Well, actually, I'd be flying to Pittsburgh, meeting him there, and then the both of us taking a plane over to New York and spending a week together. I planned on going to school there on the other side of the country, and it would have been great… God, I wish I could have met him before I died. Musta been hard on him, hearing about me…"

"What was his name?"

"Alex. He's almost 20 now… short, dark brown hair, about 6'2"-6'3", mildly lean build… green eyes…"

Narthas nodded and stared off into space, suddenly deep in thought. He didn't say anything for a long, long time.

"Hey, we're back!" Nicole shouted as the other three entered the place. Narthas blinked and looked over his shoulder at them as they settled down in the living room. Lauren saw that both Nicole and Quinn had new clothes on. "You like it?" she asked excitedly, looking at Lauren. "All the elf guys will be all over me. I just know it."

Morithil choked on a burst of laughter. "I don't see Narthas all over you," he remarked.

"He's not an average elf, though," Lauren said. "So he won't be a fair representation of all other male Eldar."

"She's right you know," he said to Nicole.

"Fine then. Half-gods will be all over me then."

Morithil took a double-take. "What?"

Nicole jumped on him in her new dress and hung on for dear life, trying to put his arms around her, but he was obviously not keen to the whole idea. Narthas, Lauren, and Quinn watched the two wrestle with wide eyes and grinning mouths.

"Argh! Alright! You asked for it!" Morithil stopped moving, bent over, and closed his eyes tightly. He suddenly burst into flames. Nicole shrieked and leapt off him, and Morithil promptly extinguished himself. "Serves you right."

"Wh… w.." Nicole began, angry as ever. "You guys are just gonna sit there while he tries to set me on FIRE?"

The three shrugged, and then all said in unison: "You asked for it."

Dinner that night was salad on steroids so they could eat in.

"So you guys figure out what these shenanigans are?" Nicole asked, looking up from her bowl.

"Yeah, pretty much," Narthas said, setting down his salad on the coffee table from where he sat on the floor next to Lauren, and reached behind him to grab a map. He unfolded the monstrosity out in front of him, revealing a very ornately detailed map of Middle-earth. Upon closer inspection, one would see a thin dotted line, beginning at the forest of Lorien.

"What's the scale on this thing?" Quinn peered out from the edge of his plate, and pushed up his glasses.

"Forty miles to the inch."

"Sweet Jesus, Middle-earth is huge."

"Yeah. Which is why it took us so long to get here."

"So," the elf began. "We start here, obviously. We take horses and follow the river until we get here." He tapped his finger on a spot that read 'Field of Celebrant'. "The river starts to deviate by tens of miles from here on down to the Emyn Muil, which is bad if we don't want to waste time. We cross the plain there, and then get back to the river here, where the Limlight meets with the Anduin. There was a battle there, actually, that led to the founding of Rohan."

"Dude, that's leet."

Narthas chuckled. "Anyways. From there, we cut across The Wold, heading southwest, and should come across the southeast corner of Fangorn and have to cross the Entwash there. We continue heading in that direction, across the West Emnet, until we get to Edoras. We spend the night there, get more supplies, and head on down the Great West Road. From there, it should be a rather cushy ride. The terrain is pretty flat and pleasant, and as we reach the end of the mountains, we'll run into the Drùadan forest in Anòrien. It's actually a really nice forest. Light, lush, with big tall trees covering small little hills. There're little grassy patches there too. Anyways. We continue on that road until we get to Amon Din, we'll start heading a little south, through the Greywood, and down to Minas Tirith." Narthas pulled his finger from the paper of the map, and sighed in victorious content, as though he had just outsmarted someone. "The whole trip should take about a week, give or take, depending on fast we go and whether or not we get sidetracked or stuck someplace."

"Wait," Nicole objected, taking a closer look at the map. "How come only a week? You're traveling like, 800 miles. Why did it take two weeks for us get from Rivendell to here? That's only like…" she looked at the scale. "250 miles!"

Lauren shot her a look. "It's because we floundered around."

"And because it was our first time on a strange continent?" Quinn said. "I donno. Just a suggestion."

"Yeah. On this trip, I'll have an expert with me. He'll know everything there is to know about every brook and deer path that we come across. Right, Randomië?" She grinned cheekily at calling him his long-lost alias. Narthas seemed to shiver.

"One, don't call me that. Two, I don't know about _deer paths_, but you've got the right idea."

"Why can't I call you Randomië? You called yourself that for AGES."

"Yes, but it doesn't sound right when you say it. I gave myself that name after the War of Wrath to make people think that Narthas was dead. And I'm not dead. You," he said, pointing at her and knitting his brows. "Of all people, should be able to call me by my birth name."

"And I do. Can I call you Ràna then?"

The Twilight Wanderer slumped his shoulders and sighed very audibly. "Yes."

"Hey," Morithil pouted in his appropriately flirtatious British accent. "Why don't you have any pet names for me?"

Nicole scoffed. "You don't like me, remember?"

The half-god laughed. "I don't not like you! You're just like the irritating little sister that I wish I never had!" He enveloped her in a hug that suspiciously resembled a headlock. "Hm. Or maybe the one younger woman I have a one-night stand with but she tries to turn it into a relationship, and stalks me out of anger when I ditch her..."

Nicole rolled her eyes. "Funny… the only debate I have with you is whether to call you a dog, or a pig."

He grinned. "Just call me Mori, love." Nicole groaned.


	8. On Leaving

So things went on like that for a few days. Comedy, drama, scheming, and arguing. It was like a horribly dysfunctional family sitcom. All the while Narthas was prepping for their journey to Minas Tirith: gathering supplies, food, hunting gear, blankets and bedrolls, extra clothes in case the weather turned foul, things for the horses, and bags to put all of it in. Lauren was expected to haul her share of food, clothes, and bedroll. The pack was a good ten, fifteen pounds, but whatever. If she had to deal with it, she had to deal with it. A little extra weight to carry was a trivial inconvenience compared to painful sleep and an empty stomach.

As the days passed, Lauren noted that Nicole, Quinn, and Morithil were doing very little in terms of preparing for their trek. Maybe they planned on staying longer than her and her companion. Whatever their plans were, they were becoming less and less pertinent to Lauren's future in Middle-earth. They would continue to correspond through letters, of course.

And so at last the day came that Lauren and Narthas would leave Lothlorien. Not for good, but for an undetermined period of time. There were holidays to celebrate collectively, after all, and other events that called for the presence of friends to come together.

The breakfast that morning was loud and comical as any other, but behind the laughter and the jokes there was an almost intangible vein of sadness that gently touched everyone in the house.

"So… will I ever see you again?" Nicole asked Lauren at the stables.

"Dude, of course. I'll write you as soon as I get to Minas Tirith, kay?"

"Kay." The two girls hugged.

Lauren then turned to Quinn, who just stood there with a cloak about him. She made as if to hug him too, but thought better of it, and instead extended her hand. "Contrary to popular belief, you were a really good sport, Quinn. I hope you get your coffee before people start asking questions.

"And you!" she turned to Morithil. "C'mere you dirty bastard." Lauren gave him a bear hug.

"If you're lucky," he said, chuckling to himself. "I might miss you."

"Tsh. You know you love me."

"That's what you like to think."

Lauren threw herself up onto Miril, and Narthas did the same to his gigantic beast (with more grace, of course). The young ranger stared at his horse.

"Argh! I know his name! I know it! It's on the tip of my tongue but I can't for the life of me recall… it starts with an F, right?"

Narthas laughed and steadied his anxious, snorting steed. "Fearin," he said.

"That's right! The Morning Spirit," she said. Then Narthas started to speak with her, as though they were both reciting the lines of a text:

"_The steed with the soul of renewal and rebirth, who knows no end, be it jovial or doomed, for his domain is the beginning of all days and all journeys_."

The area was quiet for a minute as Narthas and Lauren blinked and looked at each other. Someone cleared their throat and the two looked away from each other, not sure what to make of what just happened.

"Well, that was weird," Morithil blurted out tactlessly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you two were twins conjoined at the brain!"

"Kay Mori that was stupid," Nicole said.

"Uhhh," Narthas noised. "He might be more right than you think."

Lauren covered her mouth with her hands and started breathing like Darth Vader. "Lauren, I am your fatha!"

Quinn giggled.

"Well, whatever. You guys had better get going, if you wanna be out of the forest by evening."

"She's got a point, for once," Ràna said.

"Oh, alright." Lauren patted her horse's mane before looking back at her friend. "I'll write, I promise."

"You better, or I'll hunt you down someday and shank you in the night!"

"Ooh!" Lauren teased. "Kinky!"

Everyone laughed.

"BYE."

"BYE."

And with that, the two companions were off. Neither of them said anything for a while, just rode side by side at a good gallop without stopping until they reached the edge of the forest about an hour before nightfall. It was a beautiful scene, something that really truly reminded her of where exactly (and how very real) she was. The sky, which stretched in a vast clear blanket in all directions, was beginning to deepen, and a single faint speck of light could be seen in the farthest regions of the east.

Looking behind her, the trees rose like a pale, elegant wall, and before her stretched the rolling hills of a spectacular plain. There wasn't another soul in sight, aside from a single blackbird circling in the air. Lauren must've gasped aloud, because Narthas spoke.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Hells yes it is. Los Angeles, though it has its urban charm and metropolitan excitement, pales in comparison to the sheer aesthetic beauty of your world. Hot damn, I'm glad I'm here."

"I'm glad you're here too," he said. Lauren looked at him, and saw a peculiar twinkle in the old Elf's eye when he said: "And don't worry. Middle-earth has it's fair share of excitement as well," before a cry burst out of him and he sped away on a furiously galloping horse, laughing as his companion raced to follow.

* * *

Travel with Narthas was a shit hell lot cleaner and more tactical. He was an experienced wanderer, whose skills in the wild rivaled –if not surpassed- Aragorn's. Camp that night was tidy and quickly assembled. Narthas was a helluva lot better at making and maintaining fires than Lauren, Nicole, and Quinn were put together: the hearth burned bright and clean until the early hours of the morning.

Lauren started to get a little bored as the last embers of the fire were dying, and so she unearthed from her saddlebags the CD player and Tool album. A small fit of giddiness came over her as she peeled away the plastic film and pried off the 27 million different security measures, as it reminded her of home. Clicking the CD into place and fitting the shit-quality headphones in her ears, she began to play the familiar music. Lauren was beside herself with excitement. Precisely 7.8 seconds after pushing the play button, the music began.

Seventy-six minutes and nineteen seconds later, the album, as far as she was concerned, ended.

By that time, the first light of day faintly touched the easternmost strand of sky, and Lauren was restless. Setting her CD player into the saddlebag, she wandered off in the dim light to explore.

Not knowing exactly when Narthas preferred to wake up while on the road, she returned maybe an hour or two after sunrise. She found his sleeping arrangement empty, and the elf was nowhere to be found.

"Rana!" she shouted into the forest, walking around. "Narthas! Where the hell are you!"

A moment later, and she heard a reply. "Hey! Can't a guy answer nature's call in peace?"

She giggled, recalling a story a friend told her once concerning having to pee outdoors, and a patch of stinging nettles. "Yeah, whatever," she said back, heading in the direction that his voice came from. When she saw the shape of his backside behind a stone outcropping, she halted. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't get eaten or anything."

"You know, that reminds me of something that happened to me a long time ago, involving relieving myself near a patch of stinging nettles…"

Lauren burst out laughing, and Narthas walked back around the rocks, standing in front of her, composed and proper.

"Are we ready to go yet? I've been up for hours."

"Boredom is not a luxury anyone should bear," he said. His young, dead, creator thought just how similar the observation was to a line of a song by the name of 'Stinkfist'… Suddenly the tall elf pointed a finger at her. "You should consider yourself lucky, not having to sleep. Do you know how many things I could have done if I hadn't the need to set aside at least six hours every day for unconsciousness to stay alive?" His eyes bored into her, and after a moment he poked her shoulder with his finger. "A lot." Lauren pondered this for barely a second or two before Narthas had her on her toes again. "Come on, we got to pack up and get going. It's a long way to Gondor!"

"That it is!"

They tromped back to their site and cleaned up their mess. Before long, each horse bore bags and a rider, and they were off. For the next few hours they indulged in idle chitchat, but with that distinct tone characteristic of two life-long friends. Or perhaps that of an uncle and his niece.

"Ah!" he cried out when their conversation ha peacefully died out. It startled Lauren. "It feels fantastic to be on the road again!"

Lauren laughed. It did feel pretty good. "Yeah, I don't know why you settled down in Lorien to begin with… I mean, you were built for travel. You were an adventurer by design."

He chuckled; it was a deep, musical sound. "Well, I _was_ in Arnor for gods know how long…"

"Yeah, but you had that whole awful thing happen to you in the middle, right? You disappeared for how long was it…"

"If you're referring to the incident with the Men of the East, I was enslaved for about two years. But that was _after_ I left Arnor. After my escape from captivity, I went to Gondor. Then all of that with the Kin-strife and Wainriders and plague happened… damn, was I sick of war. Fighting, killing, blood, victory, loss, death, death, death… you know how many battles I'd fought in by then. How many wars. Quite honestly, it sucked ass." Lauren forced a small laugh. "But anyways. I lost all my friends in Minas Tirith after the plague, so I moved as far west as I could—"

"OH!_That's_ when you started living in Amroth. I got it now."

"Hehe, precisely. I was there for…" the elf looked at the sky and stroked his hairless chin. "I'd say for ALMOST a thousand years. That's when I met Finduilas, and the sons of Denethor were born, and all that." He laughed. "You know the story from there."

The young ranger sighed. "How do you keep track of all these memories? I mean, I'm only 18 and I feel like I' lived a long time…"

"Well, according to your mind, you've lived the longest you can. When you're 18, 18 is a long time."

"You've got a point there." She puzzled over his bit of strange wisdom. "What's it like to be immortal?"

"Hm? Oh. Well, you should know… you read all of Tolkien's books, haven't you?"

"Well, eight of them…"

"Yes, that's a lot. Doesn't he describe in any of them the terms of our immortality?"

"Well, yes, but I should like to hear it from an immortal elf, not a mortal man."

Narthas laughed. "Alright, then. It's like…" He searched the path ahead for the right words. "It's like a dream."

"A dream?"

"Well, like a dream that you as a mortal would have. Elves dream differently."

"You mean it's slightly fuzzy, and nothing about it has an air of hard reality to it?"

"Something like that. It's very saturated… surreal, you might call it. It's a dream in the sense that it has the capacity to present more things to you than you can comprehend all at once. Have you ever had a dream that seemed like there was more going on then there actually was? Like there were alternate timelines, and even other dreams happening at the same time?"

The girl nodded. "A bit, yeah."

"My past is like that: endless, and simultaneous. My future is like a void, and my present is a haze. The only reason I can continue on through that haze as you or any other mortal is that I've learned to see through it and think especially clearly. It is why some of us have the power of forethought, because if we don't know how to function through the haze, it can slow us down. It can stupefy us."

"That's crazy," Lauren said, not being able to conjure up anything else to say. Then she muttered to herself: "I wonder what your DNA looks like…"

"Hm?"

"Oh, I was just wondering what your genetic code looks like. You know, the physical molecule that your cells read to find out how to make you." She had a feeling that she was beginning to tread on unfamiliar ground for him. She received a quizzical expression, and took that as a cue to continue. "I was thinking that because I was reminded of one of my favorite movies, called "The Fifth Element", in which they have these fantastic, extra-terrestrial beings that are apparently 'perfect' in every meaning of the word. One of the doctors shows this other guy a picture of their DNA, and it looks like a tightly coiled rope."

"And that's…?"

"It's significant because humans, and every other living creature that has an expiration date for that matter, only have two strands coiling around each other. These perfect alien people (Mondochiwan?) have like, ten strands."

"I see."

Lauren laughed. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Hr grinned cheekily. "Not a word."

"Yes! Finally, I know something that my zillion-year-old counterpart doesn't! Winner!"

"Haha, just don't get cocky now."

"Hey."

"What?"

"Can I see your tattoo?"

Narthas considered briefly and nodded. "Sure." He reached behind his neck and pulled the dark brown hair away to reveal a small splash of a tattoo that resembled something of an infinity symbol, something a bit tribal, but still wholly painful looking. From what she understood, it was a poor excuse of an ink job, and got infected once or twice. Something like that for a human was not an incredible deal, discomfort and a fever maybe were all. But to an elf, such an invasive procedure left him extremely ill for days, and noticeably weaker long after.

Lauren hissed. "Ouch," was all she said as Narthas let the hair fall back into its place about his broad shoulders.

"I know," he said with mirth. "I was there."

"Man, I've always wanted a small tattoo, but that's really a compelling argument against it, I have to say."

The elf laughed. "What would you have gotten?"

"Oh, some nesting geometrical shapes or something. A little occultish. About yea big…" She gestured here with her fingers; about a diameter of 3 inches or so. "And right here, on my shoulder blade."

"Ah. Well, it's your body, and you're technically dead now, so I don't see anything wrong with it. Good luck finding a tattoo parlor, though."

"Oh, I think I know of a good one a few leagues south of Gondor…" Lauren giggled, but Narthas gave her a look. The laugher promptly subsided. "Sorry… that joke was in poor taste, I know."

"Yeah, it's always too early to crack jokes about slavery. Sorry to ruin your fun."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

The elf smiled. "Apology accepted. I should've known better, though. You were always a bit vulgar and brash."

"Ah, I won't apologize for that, though."

"And there's no need." They rode on in silence for a few moments before Narthas spoke again. "You see that grove up there?"

Lauren espied the blobbish figures of trees crowding by a wide bend in the river a mile or two up ahead. "What about it?"

"That's where we're stopping for lunch. Last one there's an uruk!"


	9. On a Suspicious Discovery: Act II

**- ACT II -**

* * *

Lunch that day was rather good. (Narthas tried to enlighten Lauren on the joys of hunting, which after some time she began resisting, particularly while he was gutting the small game.) In fact, so were all the other lunches that they had on their way to Edoras. Unfortunately, a good lunch isn't what this story is about per se, so perhaps I'll just get on with it.

As it was, the two companions, who had somehow managed to escape the clutches of mutual frustration and desire to get away from the other after the prolonged bonding time, were within view of the Rohirric town, despite still being rather far away. Lauren was informed that there were very few fans to ever come through this portion of Middle-earth, and so it would be the first true test of her acting abilities.

"You have to remember that in places like this, and in Gondor, your name isn't Lauren anymore. You're a young Gondorian girl from Amroth named Faelai, and if I can pull the wool over people's eyes here, then I'm your uncle, too."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If I can get them to think I'm human. If they see that I'm of Elf-kind, then well that's too bad. Oh, and you also get to test your skill in code-switching. No talking like you're still back in your world."

"Got it."

"Nuh-uh, you don't."

"OH. Right. Erhm. I understand, milord." Lauren grinned.

"Good."

"What about you? I've noticed you don't speak very Tolkien-esque either. Wonder where you've picked up that nasty little habit?" The girl raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips together.

The elf went slightly red, and then proceeded to debase any assumption Lauren had about his natural speaking voice. "If you do so wish, my lady, I can -and shall- speak as such for the rest of our journey deeper into the lands of Men."

Lauren stared at him, realizing that the sample of speech she had just heard was Narthas' actual natural speech; not the lazy, butchered form of English type whatever that she was used to him speaking up until that point. In all actuality, she had to admit it suited him.

"Shit dude, that was awesome."

He laughed. "Nay milady. 'Tis only common in this Middle-earth."

"Are you seriously going to talk like that until we get to Gondor?"

"Ah," Narthas grinned. "Pray tell, you do not tire of it already? I will say that it is indeed a cumbersome tongue, but it is all that you will find here, and as such you must learn it also."

The ranger-girl huffed as a sudden fit of insecurity passed over her.

"Oh come on. Valar know you've seen the movies enough times and read enough of the books to pull it out of your ass."

Lauren bit her lip, then burst out laughing. "Indeed!" she said at length. "Of all the fans in Middle-earth, I might be the most adept at coaxing layman's words from this dear rear-end!"

The two started laughing. "Pretty good, I might say!"

"You better believe it."

But Narthas' bright, deep, green eyes were suddenly fixed ahead. "Yeah, get to practicing real fast because we've got _Eorlingas_ up ahead."

"Wha-?"

The elf dug his heels into the side of his massive horse, and sped off, leaving Lauren to catch up in anxious confusion. Why in the hell did he get so spooked all of a sudden? She looked up ahead, toward Edoras in the distance, and saw the cavalry.

"What happened!" she shouted out at Narthas.

"I don't know!" he yelled back over his shoulder. "But I don't like the looks of it!"

"Won't fleeing make us look suspicious!"

"There's a chance of that, yes!"

They kept riding in the direction of the city, yet off to the side a bit, as the two-dozen riders drew nearer. The two companions halted and watched as the group stormed past them.

"I wonder what that was?" The elf murmured when it was quiet again.

"Hmm…"

The two closed the few miles between them and Edoras in little time at all. Narthas rode in front of Lauren as they approached the north gate, and the girl could feel their eyes all on them.

"Why does all the king's guard ride out with such fervor?" asked the elf of one of the guards.

The tall, straw-headed man in chain mail and hard leather armor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, locking eyes with his inquirer. "The King was subject to foul play this evening, and his guard now seek the man responsible, for they searched the city high and low and he is nowhere to be found here."

Narthas gasped. "Is King Eomer alive?"

"Aye he is, but I hear he is in a sorry state of affairs. The bastard was an ill measurer, that's for sure! King Eomer only received a dose of poison enough to leave him bedridden and privy-ridden."

"I suspect the hall has closed its doors then, for the day?"

"Aye."

"Well thank you for giving us word of it… if I was welcome into the hall, I would do all that I could."

"As would any of us, milord. Good day!"

"And farewell!" With that, Narthas headed up the main road into the town of Edoras.

"So Eomer was poisoned?" Lauren said in a low voice.

"Yes. Though I don't think anyone knows who did it… or where he is for that matter."

"I smell a conspiracy," she whispered.

"I don't know about that… It could possibly have been the person that would have gotten the crown had Eomer not been there to take it."

"Probably." Lauren sniffed at the air and glanced around, before leaning back in. "Where are we staying tonight?"

"The inn, of course. Come on, follow me." Narthas made a turn down another lane, whereupon they came to a tall building, with a wooden sign out front that read "The Spear and Saddle Inn". She caught Narthas adjusting the hair about his ears so they would stay hidden before dismounting. Lauren did the same (though again, with far less grace). The two led their horses over to the stables, charging their care with the hands for the time being. Just as they were about to enter, though, Narthas abruptly turned and grasped Lauren by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Now," he said in a low voice. "I am not as familiar with Edoras as I am Minas Tirith, or Dol Amroth. I don't know anyone here. So if one of us were to get into trouble, that makes it difficult to get out. If anything happens to me at all here, I want you to take Miril and ride to the closest town East of here, and wait for me. You understand?"

Lauren knitted her brows, knowing that somewhere there was a deeper warning amid his words. Why should he be worried that something might happen to them? After a moment of failed attempts at mind-reading, she nodded. "Got it."

"Atta girl." He pat her shoulders before turning away and opening the door, passing into the building. It was the reek of smoke and ale that hit her first, and she couldn't decide which one grossed her out more. The elf casually strode up to the bar, and asked the keep if he wouldn't mind lending them a room. Of course not! Patrons were always welcome. The man instructed one of his employees to go and give them a room, and the two followed.

Upstairs, as the end of the hall on the right, was their room. The space was about 12 by 15 feet, and had two good-sized beds. In one corner of the room was a table and chairs, and in the other was a wood-burning stove, which due to the fact of it being summer was not in use. There was a bay window, and the diamond-paned sheets were flung outward to let in a meandering breeze. The floorboards creaked under the girl's feet.

Narthas turned to the manservant. "And how much is the price of our fare?"

"It'll be a silver royal for two nights' stay."

The elf stroked his chin. "One night too many for us, I deem." But he reached into a satchel at his belt and removed from it an oblong silver coin, handing it to the man. "But here, you may take the royal still."

His eyes widened, and he bowed deeply as he turned to leave the room. "Thank you, my lord, for such generosity!" A moment later, and the two were alone.

"Well, my dear Lauren," the elf said. "Welcome to Edoras."

The girl took to leaning out the window and peering down into the streets below. They were bustling with people: riders, merchants, errand boys, and meandering townsfolk. Peter Jackson's vision of the capital of Rohan left something to be desired. The real thing was larger, more populated, and certainly looked a bit more lively. She started when there was a curt knock on the door. Narthas answered it, and it was a stable boy, fully laden down with their bags.

"Would you like these, sir?" he said, and the elf quickly began relieving the poor young man of his burden. In a few seconds, the heavy bags were piled up on the nearest bed.

"The innkeeper has your tip," he said.

"Thank you sir," was the reply, and the boy left the room. Narthas closed the door behind him. He proceeded to arrange their things on the table and chairs, and then collapsed onto his bed. Lauren sat herself down on the edge of hers.

The elf gave a great sigh. "I do miss traveling abroad," he began. "But I don't miss the fatigue that comes with it." He let his forearm settle over his eyes, and he sighed again.

"Pooped already?" she teased, and then as though she were talking to a small dog: "Aww, ish my widdle Nori-pory out ov shape?"

He didn't look in her direction, remove his arm from his face, or even open his eyes. Narthas just flung an arm at her, and pointed. "You watch it, missy," he mumbled. "I am very fit, and I can prove it, too." He let the offending arm fall off the side of the bed.

She laughed. "We'll spar later. You take your nap. I'm gonna draw for a little while."

"I'm not napping," he said. "Just resting my eyes."

"Kay then let's do something that doesn't involve you getting up or opening your eyes."

"And what would that be?"

"I've been meaning to do it for a little while, but I just haven't gotten around to it." Lauren brought her legs up, kicking off her boots, and sat cross-legged on the sheets. "I wanna see whose voice you have."

"Huh?"

"Mmkay. For this, just sing what I sing, got it?"

"Mmhm."

Lauren thought for a moment, recalling bits of songs sung by people she had always imagined resembled Narthas' voice. She cleared her throat, and began with the first one:

"_I met you more than just halfway  
I've gotten closer to the point  
Over wall and mountain range  
I met you more than just halfway  
Drive the striving for any attention…"_

The elf sang it just as she had done, soft and mourning, his voice low and strong. However, as she noted almost immediately, it lacked the same slightly nasal bite that Chrispaul Basso had. Close, but no cigar.

"Uhm…" She thought for a moment. Then: "Aha! Of course:

_"My mind is clearer now_  
_At last all too well I can see  
Where we all soon will be  
If you strip away  
The myth from the man you will see  
Where we all soon will be  
Jesus  
You started to believe  
The things they say of you  
You really do believe this talk of God is true  
And all the good you've done  
Will soon get swept away  
You've begun to matter more  
Than the things you say!"_

He did just as he was instructed to do, mimicking her voice. But Lauren found, though so incredibly close, there was that almost nasal, high-in-the-back-of-the-throat bite missing. She wracked her brain for another song, and then almost smacked herself in the head when she realized she hadn't thought of Maynard James Keenan yet. The real question was, which song?

_"Here from the king's mountain view  
Here from the wild dream come true  
Feast like a sultan I do  
On treasures and flesh never few  
But I  
I would  
Wish it all away  
If I  
Thought I'd  
Lose you just one day…"_

Funny that Narthas didn't even have Maynard's voice, despite it was his vocal talent that she had always thought the elf to bear as well. It was closer than the others, and she could tell that under the cool linen of the stanza there was a grittiness that she guessed only saw the light of day while in the heat of battle.

Unable to conjure up further lyrics for him to sing, however, she sighed and lay down on her bed as well, staring at the wooden beams on the ceiling.

"Was that it?" The elf yawned wide. "What was that for, anyhow?" He stretched his arms out in front of him, his wrist and elbows popping as he twisted and flexed them. Then he sat up and looked at his companion.

"Oh, I just wanted to see how you compare to singers that I always imaged you sharing a voice with."

"Oh yeah? And how did I do?"

"Terribly," she grinned. "You don't have any of their voices, but you are close."

"Should it really surprise you that I have my own distinct voice?"

"Yeah, well… I figured since I created you with their voices in mind, it would match one…"

"Ugh!" he said, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect. "You're still on about you creating me?"

Lauren scowled. "Oh, come on! You have to admit that it's a little more than coincidence that made us linked somehow. Who knows! Maybe you created a girl in your head that was a few inches short of six feet, with dark brown hair, light brown eyes, freckles, the metabolism of a racehorse, and the attitude of a boy? Maybe you subconsciously created ME. Maybe we created EACH OTHER."

"Though I believe we **are** linked in some fashion that I don't truly understand, I highly doubt that we were each other's designers. I make buildings, and you make noise: we don't make people."

The girl huffed. "Fine. At any rate, your voice didn't match the vocalists of any of those three songs."

"Well," he began, rising then taking a seat next to her on her bed. "I'm glad that I don't. I'm quite happy being myself and no one else." He mussed her hair. Lauren shook her head in an attempt to ward of his hand like a horse swatting flies with its tail.

"Yeah, I guess that's a thing to be glad about. Uncle Nori."

The elf burst out laughing. "Did you call me your uncle?"

"Well, yeah. That's pretty much how you act: like an uncle."

"Hm… I think I like that. 'Uncle Nori'… You know, Boromir used to call me that when he was a kid."

Lauren lit up at the mention of her favorite character. "Really?"

The ancient elf smiled at the memory, now forty years old. "Cute little bugger. I was so close to the family that he thought I was his uncle on Finduilas' side." Narthas chuckled. "Too bad he was too young to understand what these pointed ears truly signify, though."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Those little things really mean a lot when you think about all of what the Elves went through back in the First Age."

A silence passed over them, and whether it was caused by reveries long since reality, content laziness, a communal sadness, or a silent anxiousness for what the future would bring, she didn't know. Whatever it was, though, Narthat broke it.

"Come on. I'll take you up on that offer for a little swordplay before the sun starts to set."

* * *

The two companions fought well on past sunset. It actually took one of them to get nicked with a blade from not being able to see it for them to realize how late it was, and how big of an appetite Narthas had. However, as they made their way back to the inn for the night, something in the sky caught Lauren's eye. She looked up and knitted her brows in confusion. "Hey, Big N. Check that out." She pointed upward to the heavens, and her elven companion followed her gaze. 

"What in the fires of Angband is that," he muttered under his breath.

The thing in the sky there were looking at was moving at a good pace, and resembled a meteor. After a moment, it glowed bright orange as it penetrated the atmosphere, and then it was dark again. "Did you see where it went?" Lauren asked her companion hurriedly as she darted down the street in an attempt to get a better view of the sky. Unfortunately, before she was able to get very far, a hand had a good hold on her arm.

"Whatever that was," he said in a low voice, still looking up at the stars. "It was headed east."

"You know, I don't think I'm too keen on this whole afterlife thing anymore," Lauren said. "There's some weird shit going on, and you're no help."

"Trust me. If I knew what that was, I would have told you."

"I'm not convinced."

"Honestly!" He looked down at her with pleading green eyes. "I've had quite a handle on this whole thing until very recently."

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Quite a handle on what exactly, Narthas Randomië? Don't you give me any bullshit."

The elf opened the door to the inn for them both, and they sat down at a table, as far as they could from the hearth. It was bloody hot as it was. "Alright," he began in almost a whisper. "Things with the fans have been getting increasingly complicated over the past few years."

"Go on."

"How much do you know about alternate realities and parallel universes?"

"Enough to hold my own in a conversation, I'm pretty sure."

"Before you came here, you saw the list of afterlives to choose from, right?"

Lauren nodded.

"And you saw just how many there were, didn't you."

She nodded again.

"Every single one of those afterlives is isolated in its own separate universe. The only way that those universes can be connected and accessed is through the Waypoint. Purgatory. You've been there; you've seen all of those doors. With each idea that comes out, every movie that's released, every book published, every television show aired; each one has its own fandom. There is no fantasy world out there that does not have at least one individual so fanatic about it that they would be willing to spend the rest of eternity confined by the laws of that world. Unfortunately, humans are bad at making decisions that affect the rest of their lives, especially when they are no longer mortal. They figure that they've got eternity to do whatever they want... to right any wrongs they've committed; to clean up any messes they've made. And so fans are getting restless. They don't like confinement. Some of them don't even have their human bodies anymore, but they're still ruled by a human mind."

"Wait. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Narthas nodded gravely. "Fandoms are converging with other fandoms at certain points. It's to be expected from some of the space-faring ones, though, and not wholly unhealthy. But for others... rifts are being torn between some worlds, allowing for easy access between them. You've got Harry Potter kids mixing with Anne Rice vampires. You've got Fullmetal Alchemists mixing with World of Warcraft players. It's complete and utter chaos out there."

"But what does all of that have to do with Middle-earth?"

"Portals, Lauren. Portals are tears through the fabric of spacetime. Guess how many Middle-earth has?"

"Two?"

"We know the location of two of them. The bookstore, and mine. How did Quinn get here? Through a portal, though we don't know where it is. And there are more."

"How do you know that?"

Narthas leaned in closer, and his face was inches from hers. "There are other fans here, Lauren," he whispered. "Fans that shouldn't be here."

The girl looked astounded, and she was. She came to Middle-earth to fight orcs and Balrogs and travel the path of the Fellowship, not contend with inter-universal conspiracies and bureaucracy! "How many are here already? And what do they want with Middle-earth?"

"I don't know, and I don't know. All I can tell you is that with each breach in Arda's spacetime fabric, the easier it is for more to come through."

Lauren heaved a heavy sigh. "Is there anything we can do about it? Does DERIF know?"

"As far as I know, DERIF is completely oblivious, which I'm thankful for. If they found out what was going on, the elves would demand that all fans be removed and have Middle-earth quarantined. But it might already be too late to completely close our inter-galactic and inter-dimensional borders."

"So there's nothing."

Narthas shook his head. "So long as we remain underground, there's everything."

She widened his eyes at him. "Are you suggesting we kill fans that don't belong here?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I say we wait and see if we come across anything suspicious, and that's when we'll act as we see fit when the time comes." He resumed his original upright sitting position. "Now how about some ale?"

Lauren sighed again. "Sorry, I don't drink."

Narthas studied her for a moment. "Are you really that bothered about it?"

"Yes and no. I'm just a little pissed that my afterlife might be ruined because other people are bored and careless."

"I've got a few contacts I plan on speaking with when we get to Gondor about it."

"Alright." She slumped in her seat. "You promise to keep me posted, right?"

"Ha! Of course. What kind of uncle would I be if I didn't let you in on all of this stuff?"

"A shitty one, that's for sure."

"Definitely. Alright, I'm going to get something to eat, then hit the sack. We've got to be up bright and early tomorrow."

"Shore thing."

A few minutes later and the elf ordered himself a turkey leg, a few links of sausage, baked potato, and a huge slice of apple pie which Lauren, despite not having to eat, could not resist. They sat and idly chatted for a few minutes before Narthas paid the bill and they headed back upstairs. A candle was lit for them in their room as the two of them nearly collapsed in their beds. Narthas removed his tunic, undershirt and boots, leaving him only in his trousers. He was a pretty fit guy for not having fought in a war for a few thousand years, and she found herself wondering if any plump elves existed.

"Hey," she asked before he was able to get into bed. "Can I punch you in the stomach?"

The elf nearly had a double take. "What?"

"Can I punch you in the stomach as hard as I can?"

He blinked and glanced around the room for a second. "…why?"

"I donno. I'm a violent kid. Couldn't you tell? I just want to see if I can punch you hard enough that it hurts."

"Uhm, okay." The elf laughed to himself as he stood up again, tall and rigid as he tightened his abdominal muscles, ready for a good punch. She pulled back her arm and formed her hand into a fist, clenched her teeth, and sent it flying toward the area just below his belly button. A light _smack_ was the only noise other than a small groan that she heard.

"Did it hurt?" she asked almost eagerly.

"A little," the elf said, rubbing his belly with a wheeze. "Am I allowed to go to sleep now?"

"Go, you lummox."

"Thank you your vileness." With that he climbed into bed with another groan, turned his back to Lauren, and instructed her to blow out the candle. After a moment she did and climbed into bed as well, staring at the dark ceiling.

There were many things going through her mind at that point. The attempted assassination of the king, the meteorite, portals, fandoms, and again, the meteorite. She lay in her bed for what seemed like a very long time, just thinking. When at last Narthas' breathing was deep and slow, she climbed out of bed and went to the window. Looking over her shoulder at the somnambulant form of her friend, she pushed open the glass panes and stepped out onto the window sill. Lauren maneuvered herself on the sill to have better access to one of the rafters supporting the eaves, grabbed it, swung on it, and hurled herself upward to grab onto the edge of the roof. With another surge of energy, she pulled herself up.

The roof of the inn was a wide thing, covered in wooden shingles that her bare feet found easy to grip. The girl made her way to the highest point on the roof and sat there, staring up at the stars. She was probably on the roof for an hour or so when another slow, cumbersome shooting star caught her eye, heading in an easterly direction just as the other had. It brightened with an orange glow as well before darkening and disappearing against the black sky.

Meteor shower? "I think not," she said to herself.


	10. On Things to Come

"Wake up, wake up," Lauren had a vice grip on Narthas' shoulder and was shaking him profusely.

"Unh.. what? Up?" The elf groaned as he turned over in his bed and squinted at Lauren through the bright morning light parading through the open window.

"I've been awake all night. I saw two more meteorites and something else. We have to get going."

As soon as she said "meteorite" Narthas was wide awake. He sat straight, flinging the sheets from him and standing up. "More? You saw other things too?"

"Yeah dude. This is getting really weird. The other thing I saw was a pair of flashing red lights. If it were daytime, I might have seen the actual thing, but it was definitely a flying machine of some sort."

Her companion's hand went to his hair and coursed through it in a subtle anxious panic. "No, no, no…" he muttered under his breath. "Too many. There are too many coming." He paced for a second, and then turned to Lauren and grabbed her shoulders. "There's no way that they'd be able to hide themselves if they keep coming at this rate. They have to remain hidden!"

"So these are fans falling from the sky?!"

"What else could they be!"

Lauren rubbed her face and did her fair share of pacing. "I don't know!"

"We have to leave. Now." He immediately went to the table and began to throw their things back into the bags. "We have to get to Gondor."

"Why Gondor? What's so important there and who are these connections you've got?" Lauren was beginning to get suspicious of her friend, and definitely not for the first time. "I thought you said you didn't know what these are."

"I don't," he barked at her. "Which is all the more reason that we have to hurry. There is one fan in particular that I need to talk to about this."

That explanation seemed to be enough for Lauren, at least for the time being. She'd have to get used to his slyness, and when she really needed information from him, she'd have to pry it from him. Perhaps with a sharp tongue, or a sharper sword.

The girl began to pack her things up as well. "All right, but if I don't get let in on what exactly is going on soon, I've got some asses to kick. The first one being yours."

Suddenly, however, there was a great tumult outside, and the sound of beating hooves was like thunderstorm. Their kneejerk reaction was to go to the window, and that's exactly what the two did. Upon discovering that they wouldn't be able to see any of the riders, Lauren rushed downstairs and out the front door, nearly tripping over herself, with Narthas close behind. Lo and behold, at the top of the hill and the foot of the Golden Hall, there was the guard, all on horseback. Three figures descended the steps: two standing tall, and one seemed to be dragged between them. When they reached the top of the flight, the two guards held up the man between them, and it was obvious, even from such a distance, that he was bound by ropes.

"People of Edoras!" cried one of the men. "Behold the traitor of our King Eomer! It was by his hand alone that our Lord was poisoned, in an attempt on his life!"

Lauren squinted, trying to see who exactly the failed assassin was, but it was to no avail. A shout rose up from the citizens as they suggested various means of public humiliation and torture in unorganized unison. Then everyone grew silent again after what she thought was him spitting on one of the guardsmen holding him up. He was dropped to the ground again and promptly kicked in the stomach. He cried out various obscenities that Lauren couldn't really hear, but when she caught one syllable, it all fell into place.

"He's not a resident of Middle-earth," Lauren gasped, not taking her eyes off the scene unfolding before them.

"What, how do you know?" The elf turned immediately to her.

"Didn't you hear? He said 'fuck'. Natives of this world don't say fuck, do they."

Narthas stared wide-eyed at the man on the front step of the hall, and the guard that had addressed the people did so once again. "This filthy, heathen, traitor," he began. "Will remain in the stocks until nightfall! Whereupon he will wait in a cell until the King is well enough to execute this vermin himself!"

Angry uproarious cheering erupted from the crowd and people gathered in the streets. Lauren jumped when a hand squeezed her shoulder.

"Come on. We have to get going," the elf said before opening the door and going back inside. The young ranger turned her back to the scene and followed Narthas back to their room.

"What I want to know is, why would a fan try to kill Eomer. It doesn't make any sense. What would he have to gain from the death of the King? Since he has no heir yet, rule would probably pass to his second-in-command, or I don't know… his sister?"

The elf was rushing about, finishing the packing and then putting some decent clothes on himself. "That's exactly what I was thinking," he said. "Maybe this has more to do with another fandom than it does ours."

"Great."

"Are you ready to go?" Narthas paused and looked at her.

"Yep."

"Alright. Grab your bags. We're outta here."

Lauren stepped over to the table and slung a pair of saddlebags over her shoulder, and with effort, followed the elf out the door, down the stairs, out the main door, and over to the stables. It seemed that the stable hands had abandoned the horses for a while to go stand amid the crowd that was now throwing vegetables and rocks at the attempted murder. "Come on. Ready your horse."

About five minutes later and they were ready to leave.

"No leisurely riding this time, and no stopping longer than we absolutely have to. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay. Let's go. Yeah!"

Lauren dug her heels into Miril's sides and the horse dashed off down the empty street toward the main gate. No one tried stopping them, and even if they had, the two riders were traveling far too fast to halt for a few guards. Not to mention they were too much in a rush.

"We'll take a lunch break at high noon!" he shouted over the noise of their riding. Lauren nodded in response.

They galloped across the plains like a whisper, the wind whipping Lauren's hair into knots behind her. Her heart was racing just as fast as her horse, and it wasn't because of the adrenaline rush. Something was happening to Middle-earth --HER Middle-earth—and something needed to be done about it before more lives were put at risk.

When she seriously gave it some thought, the concept did make sense:

People's souls remain intact after they die.

People get to choose where they go after they die (assuming they've been pretty good in life.)

The list of places to go is determined by religion, or by worlds created in the human mind.

Some of these worlds are completely fabricated, and others actually exist.

The only reason some people know of the other worlds is by accidentally tapping into them, getting sent there, or by some other extrasensory stuff.

For every idea, world, and afterlife created ever, another door appears in the labyrinth that is Purgatory.

Every world physically exists somewhere. Some are separated by time, space, dimension, or a combination of the three.

Unfortunately, those boundaries can be broken by some that know how to do it.

Fans, still being nothing more than people, are often times clumsy, short-sighted, and generally stupid all around with little attention span.

Mix that with actual residents of these worlds that have little or no clue as to who the fans really are.

Mix those with countless rifts between the worlds.

It spells disaster.

The two companions rode on for a very long time. The scenery didn't change much either, but as they slowly made their way closer to the White Mountains to the south, it became much greener. They rode just beyond the forest's edge on the plains, for several hours without slowing or talking, and then suddenly Narthas held up his hand as a signal to halt. It was time to eat for a few minutes. The horses slowed to a comfortable trot and eventually the company of two settled down in a nice lush clearing.

The elf reached into his pack to reveal two apples and a satchel of jerky. Lauren could immediately smell the meat and spices. Narthas tossed her an apple before cracking his back and taking a seat on the ground.

"I've got a theory," he said between bites.

"Let's hear it."

"I think that fan back in Edoras was working for another fan who wanted Eomer dead."

"Why in the bloody hell would any fan want Eomer dead."

"Perhaps consider the obvious. Maybe they wanted the throne."

"A random person that no one knows, who doesn't have any traceable or at least credible genealogy or family ties to Rohan would not get the throne if the King died. It would pass onto uh, what's his name. Gamling, or something."

Narthas was silent for a long time, deep in thought. A few minutes passed before he broke the silence. "Unless," he said in a dark tone, eyeing Lauren. "Unless that fan can take on the form of other people."

Lauren swallowed hard. Yep, things were getting mighty creepy in Middle-earth. She was about to respond when suddenly the horses started to panic. They beasts reared up and neighed, and despite the best efforts of their respective owners, the two dashed off back in the direction of the plain. Narthas drew his sword and scanned the area.

"Not good," he growled.

"Not good," the girl breathed, staring into the green of the forest. She too, drew her sword and held it at ready.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a great shadow emerged from the undergrowth.

"I've never seen a bear that huge before!" Narthas exclaimed.

"He must've smelled our food. What do we do!?"

The elf didn't take his eyes off the beast as it took at step closer, opening its jowls and letting out a great noise. There was something in its roar, though, that she found to be out of place.

"If it comes after either of us, attack it. But if it doesn't we'll just wait for it to go away."

"O-okay.."

It was a few terrifying moments of watching the bear. It took a step closer here, a step sideways there, watching with its strange eyes. When Lauren caught a strange glimmer in one of them, she spoke up.

"Narthas," she said with considerable unease. "I… I don't think this is a normal bear."

"I think you might be right…"

As though knowing what they were saying, the bear stood up on its hind legs making it well over twelve feet tall. And then, it's eyes flashed with an inner blue light.

* * *

Both ancient elf and uncouth lass alike took several steps back from the bear, now thought to be anything but a bear at all. They still had their weapons at ready, their stances defensive, ready to strike. But the bear, now towering over them on his haunches, closed his mouth and did not come any closer.

"Get behind me," Narthas hissed.

"What?"

"_Get behind me!_" he commanded again, looking at her this time. When he turned back to the bear, an "Oh, shit!" escaped him. The elf dashed in front of Lauren. With eyes as wide as dinner plates and breaths as short and quick as haikus, they watched the bear change.

A seam somewhere in its chest opened up, revealing an extremely complicated infrastructure of mechanical pieces. Its hind legs both split down the middle, and a mechanical mass from inside them shot downward, extending the legs even further, and giving it bipedal robotic feet. The bear's head folded back and another seam in the chest opened. Pieces moved and folded away, and eventually, a second head emerged to sit atop a pair of shoulders. The bear's forearms shifted up and allowed an extension of the arms, from which articulating hands assembled. Another moment passed, and the transformation was complete.

Lauren swallowed, thinking of something to say. She willed her breathing to slow down as she stepped out from behind Narthas to whisper in his ear: "If this is a bad guy, we're dead."

The elf said nothing, but she saw him nod slowly. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

The girl took another extremely cautious step toward the giant robot. "A-are you a Predacon, or a Maximal?" She didn't think that he would have been an Autobot or Decepticon because of his bear form. This is Beast Wars they were talkin', right?

To her astonishment, a laugh welled up within the robotic invader. A moment later and he kneeled down in an attempt to be more at their level. He was of course, nearing twenty feet tall. "Sorry," he said. "Wrong generation of Transformers."

An anxious and almost painful smile crossed Lauren's face at his answer, which was soon enough followed by a relived laugh of her own. "Oh, fuck!" she said. "You scared the shit out of us, you know that?"

"Sorry… but it's not like there are any vehicles I could scan around here."

Narthas stepped up next to Lauren and sheathed his sword. "All right," he said sternly. "Who are you, and why in the pits of Mordor are you in Middle-earth?"

The Autobot fan looked at the elf with his glowing blue eyes. "Name's Gasket," he said, introducing himself. His voice was deepish, though unnaturally so; it was as if he still had his human voice, but due to his new size, the sound was forced to adopt another pitch. "I'm a human-turned-Autobot. You guys are fans, right?"

"I am," Lauren said, pointing to herself, then gestured to her friend. "He isn't."

"Oh crap. The others aren't going to be happy that I revealed myself to a resident."

"Don't worry about me," Narthas said. "What 'others' are you talking about?"

The Transformers fan stood up again, pointing away east. "I came with two other Autobots, and we landed last night. Unfortunately, I'm the only fan among them."

"Can we communicate with them? Do they know Westron? Wait... how do _you_ know Westron?" Lauren's brows knitted together in confusion as she looked up at him, and then she turned to Narthas. "Wait, this IS Westron that we're speaking, isn't it?

The elf shook his head in dismissal. "No, this is English. But I'll explain later."

The Autobot chuckled. "No, we know English. Well, the fans did by default, and because all of the information we had in our old brains were transferred to computer chips, we were able to share that lingual information with them and the rest of the bots learned it too."

"Okay, but why are you guys here?"

"Mithril."

"Mithril?" Lauren said, astounded. "_Light as a feather, yet hard as dragon scales?_" She was quoting Bilbo.

"Unfortunately, there are more uses for it than just making armor." Gasket crouched down again. "We're facing more baddies than we know how to deal with anymore. Decepticons are now allied with the Sith. Their agendas are nearly one and the same: to manufacture armies of droid-like Transformers, using the Mithril to fabricate crude and unnatural Sparks to bring these droids to life. Vampires and evil mutants have joined the bandwagon too, having been promised riches and lives of luxury if they would serve the forces of evil."

Lauren sighed in frustration. "Ain't that how it always goes." Then she turned to her elf friend. "What do you think Narthas? Did you know about any of this?"

He searched the ground for a moment with his eyes before clearing his throat. "I… I knew about the Mithril operation."

The girl whirled around and stared him down. "You were in on their plans for universal domination?!"

"Oh, come on, Lauren! You know me better than that!" He was seriously offended.

"Then how the hell do you know about the Mithril?"

The elf sighed in defeat. "My contact in Gondor," he began. "He's from Coruscant. He's been here for the past few years studying the Mithril because word was that Sith were showing considerable interest in it. I haven't seen him since last fall, though. We _have_ to tell him what's going on."

"You have a contact here?" Gasket asked eagerly.

Narthas ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah."

The giant robot stood up again. "You guys have to come with me then. You have to tell Hound and Airlock everything you just told me."

The human and the elf looked at each other, knowing that they had to go with him. "What about our horses?" She asked Narthas. "Our stuff?"

He looked behind them out past the edge of the forest and onto the plains of Rohan. Then he turned back to look at Lauren and Gasket. "They'll find us." The girl suddenly remembered Moria, and their run-in with the orcs, and knew he was right.

"Kay. Take us to them."

Gasket nodded. "Alright, get on my back." He crouched down low, and the two companions clung to the fur around his shoulders, holding on to any bit of protruding machinery they could find. "Ready?"

"Go."

"We need to take the cover of the forest," the Autobot said. And with that, he broke into a jog. They sped through the trees at a good pace, and a low, rumbling thud resonated through the trees and shook Lauren's stomach with every heavy footfall.

"You know," Narthas said. "Never in all the thousands of years I've been alive did I ever imagine, even in my wildest dreams, that I would be doing something as crazy as this."

"I wanna be a robot…" came the sad reply.

"Well, if you get kicked out of Middle-earth, who knows. Maybe you'll be able to go to wherever this guy's from instead."

She fell silent for a second, feeling the boom of every of the robot's footsteps, listening carefully to the machinery at work in his metallic body. "I don't wanna leave you, though. You're my main dude."

Narthas laughed. "We'll see how this whole thing turns out. If we're not so lucky, you might not have a choice."

They went on for a bit longer, gradually nearing closer to the foot of the mountains. When the land became much less flat than it was, Gasket slowed down, carefully maneuvering around old trees and huge rocks. Then, he stopped. He crouched down low again, a cue for the two of them to get off, and he rose up once more. Lauren stretched and cracked her neck. "Uh, where are they?"

Gasket motioned for them to follow. He trod through the fingers of the mountain, up a wide canyon, and to the mouth of a cave. "Hound! Airlock!" he called inside. "I've found some people that may help us."

The three of them stepped back when some mechanical noises were heard from inside, followed by a voice: "Good work, Gasket!" Two bots emerged from the shadow of the cave. One was about Gasket's size, and the other was slightly smaller. She noticed right off the bat that, even though they were in their humanoid form, neither of them wore any traces of another form, either vehicle or animal. They just looked like a pair of robots that might have been dug up near some ancient ruins.

Aside from that small trace of logical thinking though, her brain had turned to mush. She couldn't blink, or close her mouth, or slow her breathing. The situation she had found herself in was so cool that she might've passed out, had she been fainter of heart.

"Hi there, humans!" One of them said. He sat down low, just as Gasket did, when talking to them. "I'm Hound, and this is Airlock."

"I'm Lauren, and this is Narthas. He's not a human, actually. He's an elf."

Hound rubbed his "chin" with a four-fingered articulating hand. "Well, he looks human to me. What's the difference?"

"Well," Narthas said, stepping forward. "Elves are immortal. At least, we are in theory…"

"They have pointy ears too," the girl pointed out.

"Haha, all right. Narthas, and Lauren." He stood up again.

Lauren looked up at them towering over her and shielded her eyes from the sun. "Can I ask you guys a question?"

"Shoot," said Airlock.

"Why is Gasket the only one to have taken a form? How come you've still got that 'fresh-out-of-Cybertron' look going on?"

"Well. You see," answered Airlock. "That's because we _are_ fresh out of Cybertron. We can still transform, too, but only into the vehicles that we are on our home planet as well. We sent Gasket here to look for some fans, figuring that he'd be the best candidate being a fan and all himself. We didn't think it'd be too smart for the three of us to go parading around your world. That would be far too conspicuous." The three bots nodded in agreement.

"They sent me to go find someone, but I couldn't go walking around Middle-earth as a giant alien robot, or a as an alien vehicle, so I scanned the first thing I saw: a bear. But let's get down to business," Gasket said, turning to his fellows. "The elf says he knows about the Mithril operation."

Hound gestured to Narthas. "Well, let's hear it! What can you tell us?"

The elf cleared his throat and miraculously kept his composure. "About four years ago, I met a young man by the name of Alt Fen while visiting some friends in Gondor. For a little while he maintained that he was a Tolkien fan, but eventually I came to the conclusion that he was from somewhere else. And, after confronting him about my suspicion, he revealed that he was indeed a foreign fan. Said he came here looking for someone, so I said I would help him try to find this person if they were here. And so, with my help, he managed to open an underground club in Minas Tirith for Tolkien fans, and I guess Elves too since they know about the whole afterlife situation… but anyways. He opened that up. **However.** It's just a front. The actual club itself it only about a third of the actual underground setup he has going on. The rest is dedicated to various technological equipment he has… storage, a small lab area, and a more recent arms room.

"The original idea behind the club was to have a sort of home base so he could look for whoever that he was looking for (he never told me) but as it later became apparent that Middle-earth was becoming a point of interest for bad guys from his fandom, he abandoned his search and instead built it up to do more detective work.

"Now because I travel all over, Fen had me be his eyes and ears since he wasn't used to this world and was afraid of blowing his cover. He knew about my portal—"

"Wait, wait," Hound interrupted. "You've got a rift open?"

Narthas waved his hand in dismissal. "You wouldn't be able to find it even if you were looking."

"You do know that for every tear through this planet's spacetime there is, the easier it is to make more, right?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. But wait a second… how did you get here?"

"We flew in," Gasket said. "Last night, remember?"

Lauren suddenly grabbed Narthas' shoulders and shook him. "That's what I saw last night! They are the three meteorites I saw!"

The elf slapped himself on the forehead. "Of course! Wait. You said you saw something else too."

The girl let go of her counterpart and turned back to the Autobots, who had now taken to sitting down. "There was a fourth something with you. Who was that?"

"There was a fourth?" Gasket asked Hound.

"Not that I know of," he said, thinking. "Prime just sent us three to investigate. What'd it look like?"

"Looked like a plane, or a ship or something."

Hound shook his head. "I don't much like that sound of that. I think we were followed here."

"By who?" Lauren followed their example and took a seat on the ground too.

"Well, could be any number of baddies. Couldda been a follower of Megatron in his vehicle form. It couldda been a Sith cohort. It couldda been a vampire and a Sith cohort. Riding inside of a Decepticon in his vehicle form. If he's not here with us right now, he was definitely spying."

"All right," Narthas sighed. "Now we've got that to contend with too."

"Sorry for interrupting you there," Hound said, ushering the elf to continue his story.

"Oh, right. Where was I…"

"The rift," Airlock said.

"Right! The rift. So. Fen knew about the existence of my portal. He told me to keep it open for the sole sake of it being a backdoor means of escape. Because at this point in time, Earth is untouchable by anyone from a different world, planet, universe, whatever. But, that would be our last hope. But other than that, my portal doesn't mean too much.

"Uhm… oh! About the Mithril now. Fen and I started to notice some things out of place. Strange shadows, that sort of thing. In my travels I'd also see strange markings on the ground in forest clearings, or sheltered gulches on the plains, too. It was shortly after all of this that it became apparent that Middle-earth was receiving regular visitations from fans and natives of other worlds. Fen and I had to remain on the down-low, though. We didn't want DERIF sniffing around the underground compound, and as far as I know, they still know nothing of it.

"That's all I can tell you for now, because that's all I know. I don't even think Fen is aware of the Sith's alliance with the Decepticons or other fans. Whatever we do, though, it MUST remain covert, or Middle-earth is screwed."

"I agree with Narthas," Hound said. "If war is what they want, then it's going to be a secret war if we can help it."

"I think the first step toward it being secret, however, is to get you guys in costume. Is there anything you can scan to hide yourselves?"

"Of course," laughed Hound. "They don't call us _robots in disguise_ for nothing!"


	11. On Bad Guys

The day was wearing on as their little lunchtime break wasn't as short as either of them had anticipated. And Lauren was finding her partner's response to interacting with giant robots to be nothing short of amusing. But she had to give him props; he was doing pretty well so far. He hadn't run and scream in terror, or pissed his pants, or fainted, or been overly suspicious, but had taken pretty well to their presence over-all. His voice was a bit shaky when he first started talking, and it took him a while before he could get over how intricate their anatomies were and stop staring (something Lauren had to work on). Had it been almost any other situation, he might've wanted to study their mechanics a bit more.

Right now, however, Lauren had to try and ignore the rumbling of their footsteps behind them as she and Narthas led the company back out of the forest, searching for some Middle-earth-friendly things they could transform into. Narthas had suggested turning the remaining two into eagles, since giant birds, though extremely rare and usually a sign of aid from one of the Valar, were not an unheard of thing in Arda. Hound declined the invitation, saying his forte was not flying, but Airlock gladly accepted.

"Can you turn into a flying thing of sorts?" Lauren asked the slightly smaller bot. The Autobots remained in the cover of the trees when the two fleshlings walked out into the open of the plains.

"I can," he said. "Are you sure it's safe for us to be seen like this?"

"I don't think anyone's around for you to be seen by."

After a great deal of hesitation and looking around, the three giant robots came out of hiding and stood out like sore thumbs against the flat land of the Mark. "It would make things so much easier if you could just transform into people," Narthas said, sizing them up again now that the light was on them. Hound held out his right arm and the appendage there rearranged itself, folding out other pieces and putting away others, until a weapon of sorts appeared. It was a gigantic arm-cannon that glowed a yellowy orange, and it looked very deadly. The bot aimed at various things, before folding it away and replacing it with a hand once again.

"That gets too complicated," said Hound. "It gets pretty hard once you want to fold yourself up into something that's a fifth your size!" He held his hand parallel with the ground at Lauren's height for emphasis. She came up just past his knee joint.

"He's right," Gasket said. "We'll find a bird for Airlock here, and I donno… what would you suggest for Hound?"

Lauren smiled. "I think a wolf is appropriate," she grinned.

"A giant dog?" Narthas interjected. "Are you kidding? He'd turn into a canine the size of a Clydesdale!"

"We'll we've already got a bear the size of a minivan, and we're gonna have an eagle the size Gwaihir, so what's a big dog?"

"I don't know about this plan. I think people are going to flee from you no matter what forms you take… you're just too big for Middle-earth."

"I'm sorry, but do we really have a choice?" said Gasket. "I mean, this is war we're talking about. You need our help, whether you like it or not. And if it comes to it, the three of us have been ordered to call for support too."

The elf was silent for a moment, and then sighed to himself. "I guess a few oversized forest critters is better than giant robots running amok." He paused, turning to Lauren. "What do you think the good professor would say about this whole thing?"

"Do whatever we need to do to help keep the peace and preserve this Middle-earth for the generations to come."

The five of them fell silent, but Lauren knew there was a meaning behind it. She knew they were all agreeing.

"Alright," said the elf. "Let's find this guy a bird."

"There's one." Lauren shielded her eyes from the sun and pointed to a speck in the sky, circling high above them.

"That's too far away to scan," Airlock sighed. Or, the closest thing a robot could come to sighing.

A light went off in Lauren's head. "Is your vehicle form something that flies?"

"Sure is."

"Kay. Turn into your plane thing, fly up to the bird and scan it up there."

"Not a bad idea…" Airlock stroked his chin and looked at the bird again. "But are you sure that I won't be seen?"

"I don't think so… we're miles from the closest village."

Airlock nodded. "Here goes," he said, and took a mighty leap into the air. In the span of about two seconds, a million little things happened to his body that Lauren didn't even have the brain power to comprehend. All she knew was that he went from being a four-limbed robotic organism to a thing that kind of resembled a space ship from that online MMO, Eve (or an x-wing from Star Wars) in a timeframe shorter than that would allow her to say "holy fucking shit". The remaining four on the ground watched as Airlock flew upward with an ear-slaughtering whoosh, much like a jet, and aimed for the bird. Naturally, however, the creature saw this incoming thing and promptly began to flee in complete terror. Airlock was too fast for the bird though and caught up with it in a few moments, flying around it in an acute arc, and with a flash of light, he came back down, landing on two mechanical feet once again.

Lauren blinked at him, each eye independently. Her ears rung and a small muscle somewhere in her upper arm started to spasm. "Yeah kay see?" She turned to Narthas. "THAT was freakin' cool." She looked back up at Airlock and nodded at him. "Alright, let's see how you pass as an organic."

The bot remained standing as he changed. First things first. His chest split down the middle, and in went his arms. A second pair of legs, shorter this time, assembled in front of his humanoid pair, and then those folded back behind him, where other parts shifted here and there. A moment later and the body reshaped itself, his head sunk into the torso, and a new head was built on top of it. After that, a basic wing structure shot out from his backside, and the finishing mechanical touches were put into place.

"You're not done yet, buddy!" Hound chuckled, watching his friend with amusement.

Not more than a few seconds passed before thousands of pale-blond filaments started to appear all over Airlock's metallic body out of what Lauren assumed might have been microscopic pores of sorts. The filaments grew and filled in, becoming feathers, and soon the bot was complete in his transformation.

"How did I turn out?" The slightly mechanized voice didn't come from the "bird's" mouth, but instead from inside of its chest. Airlock flapped his new wings experimentally.

Lauren drew her sword and approached the Autobot, and hit him on the side of his chest with the blade. Sure enough, her ears didn't meet with a soft thud, but rather a muted clang of metal.

"I think so long as no one gets too good a look at you, you'll be alright."

"Well, I'm glad that's done with." With that, he changed back. It took a bit longer to transform from his new body to his robot one than it did to go from robot to plane. Lauren supposed it would take some getting used to. Airlock's robotic form was different than it was before. Now parts of him were covered in a light golden plumage and pieces of the bird could be still be seen, like the claws from his talons, peeking out from behind his 'calves'.

"That was the easy part," Gasket said. "Finding a suitable form for Hound here might not be as quick."

Narthas nodded. "I highly doubt that a wolf would allow himself to get near enough to any of us long enough to be scanned."

"Hmm…" Lauren scrunched up her face in thought. "Aha! I've got a plan. Narthas. Do you still have your jerky?"

"No… It's probably lying on the ground near where Gasket found us."

"Gasket, do you know where that is exactly?"

"I've got the coordinates right here." He tapped the side of his head with an index finger.

"You gotta take us back."

"Well… all right then."

Hound looked around. "The two of you change, and I'll follow with the fleshlings." A few moments later, Narthas and Lauren were bracing themselves on Hound's shoulders, and were following close behind Gasket. They reached the clearing where the two of them had stopped for lunch, and before long, Lauren had located the pouch of jerky Narthas had dropped.

"Now what?" the elf asked.

"Dig a tiger pit. There." She pointed to a clear area in the trees. The bots changed back and proceeded to dig.

Narthas tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm going to go get our horses back. I can't stand sitting on those guys anymore."

She laughed. "Alright. Yeah, it would be nice to have our supplies too. We'll be right here."

He nodded and started to jog in the direction of the plains, whistling and calling out as he went: "Fearin! Miril!"

"Go go go!" she cheered, turning back to the team of Autbots. "Try to make it no bigger than like, 6 or 7 feet?"

"We'll try," said Hound. "Our hands aren't quite as small as yours!" He was rather correct, actually. The span of their articulating, opposably-thumbed hands were about two feet across. But it seemed like in no time at all they dug a decently deep pit (deep enough so that SHE wouldn't be able to get out without some trouble), which was just perfect.

"Good job guys. Kay, next we gotta find thin twigs to cover most of it with." The four split up and by the time Lauren had gathered an armful, the other three got handfuls bigger than her bunch. They arranged the flimsiest branches across the pit, proceeded to cover that with a good layer of leaves, and then covered _that_ with a sprinkle of dirt, then more dead leaves. Lauren stood back from their trap. "Not bad. If I didn't know it was there, I'd probably fall right in."

"And you're going to use the meat as bait, right?" asked Gasket.

"Bingo." She looked around for a good stick to skewer the meat on. She picked one up from the ground and began to stick as much meat as she could on it until there was a fairly large wad on one end. "Perfect… alright. Could one of you hold me over the pit so I can stick this on there?"

A small yelp escaped her when a pair of gigantic, cold mechanical hands gently grabbed her, lifted her up, and held her over the trap. Taking painstaking care not to make the whole thing collapse, she eased the stick into the false ground so that it stuck straight up, covered in meat. To the carnivores of the forest, it screamed "COME AND EAT ME."

"Alright guys. Now we wait."

They ended up leaving the cover of the forest again and loitering out in the open. After a while Narthas came back with both horses, and it took some convincing to get them to even come near the Autobots.

"So, tell us about this planet while we're waiting," Hound said. "We asked Gasket here if he knew, but he said he wasn't into Lord of the Rings or anything, whatever that means."

The girl and elf laughed. "Well, after reading 9 of Tolkien's published works, I've come to the conclusion that either he intended that Arda remain in a state of technological ignorance, or that's just how this world was meant to be and Tolkien wrote it how it was. I mean, if you look at the histories, not much has changed since the First Age, and Narthas here can attest to that. That's really the only challenge to being here, or so I was told. We had to completely abandon anything that might clue the natives into thinking that we're from somewhere far away, or we're just crazy. For you guys, it sounds easier. Your fans don't have to hide anything. I mean, you could waltz into the Star Wars universe and you'd fit right in! We, on the other hand, we have to take false names, false identities, and live out this completely different life. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, because god knows I want to be here, but it's a challenge. The only help we get is from a pamphlet." She laughed.

"Well that doesn't sound fair at all," Hound said. "You know… what if we could keep trade open when all of this is done and behind us?"

"How would we do that?"

"Maybe a secret, but benign, mining operation. "

"Well, you'd have too look at the economics of it, first of all. Mithril is worth way more than just about any other resource found on this planet."

"Hmm… well, think about it. We should see how this whole situation's gonna turn out before we do anything, that's for sure."

And so the five of them talked for a good hour or two out on the plains before Lauren announced that she was going back to check on the trap. She crept along through the trees and brush slowly, trying not to grab the attention of any animals in the vicinity. To her great surprise, she looked upon a hole once more rather than a false ground. She bounded up to the edge and looked down into the pit to see not one, but two animals, and neither of them were wolves. "Well, damn," she sighed to herself, resting her hands on her hips. Inside the pit and struggling furiously to get out was a wolverine, and a young cougar.

"Hound!" the girl yelled at the top of her lungs. "The trap sprung!" Soon enough, she felt the soft rumble of his feet as he got closer.

"Well, bless my circuit boards," the bot said. "It really worked! What's in there?" He stood over the pit and peered down inside. "So no wolf, huh?"

"Guess not."

"Trapping a wolf is tough," Narthas broke in. "They're pretty wary about being too near to the edge of the forest, and they usually go in packs to. I'm really surprised you caught a cougar, though! Oh, well that's why. He's a young one."

"You mind being a mountain lion?" Gasket asked Hound.

"Well, if I got a look like that pesky Ravage to get this job done, then I gotta do it." He crouched down low over the pit, and the animals inside shrunk back in complete terror. A faint flash of light came from his blue optics as he analyzed the anatomy and DNA sequences of the creature. Not a second later he was done, and reached down to gently release the big cat. It fought him and bit him, but his metallic hand didn't even flinch when he placed the cat back on the ground. The poor thing darted off faster than a lizard on hot sand. Hound reached in again and this time produced the wolverine, which was far more violent than the cougar. In a moment he was free to run for his life as well.

Narthas at this time looked up at the sky, and saw that the sun was in the western half of the heavens. "Alrighty guys. You've got your forms, now what do we do? Lauren and I have to get to Gondor ASAP."

"We need to come with you," Gasket said.

Narthas cocked an eyebrow at the robots towering over him. He gestured at all of them with a pointed finger before inhaling sharply and speaking. "You are **not** getting anywhere near the city. It's just not going to happen."

"We need to meet with this Alt Fen," Airlock broke in.

Gasket sighed. "He's right. We need to talk to him about mobilizing forces on his turf. We need to find out what he's discovered about the Mithril, and the kind of armies these new bad guys plan on manufacturing. And keep in mind that these aren't just droids they're making. These machines are crude forms of life, with their own Sparks."

"What… what are sparks." The elf crossed his arms over his chest.

"They're like souls," Lauren said.

"Yes, that makes sense I suppose." He paused to think for a moment. "Well, regardless. If you're coming, we're leaving." The elf turned from them to go retrieve the horses, and Lauren nodded at the robots.

"Autbots," Hound said. "Transform."

In a flurry of movement, Lauren was no longer surrounded by giant machines, but giant animals. She darted out of the forest and onto the plains again, joining her companion and the two horses. "How long will it take us to get to Gondor from here?"

He was stroking Fearin's nose. "I'd say about three days riding at a good gallop, if we don't run into any more interruptions."

Lauren nodded and glanced over her shoulder. The transformers were out of earshot still (or at least out of human earshot).

"You don't really like them, do you?"

"If you lived here your entire life, for thousands of years, and suddenly all of this was happening, wouldn't you be a little surprised, too?"

"Well, yeah…"

"We don't have movies here, or cartoons, or fantasy and sci-fi books or internet here. " He rubbed his eyes. "Besides, they remind me a little bit of The Fall."

Lauren thought for a moment at what he was referring to, then it hit her. "Oh man, I'm sorry. They're not bad guys, and you know that. They're here to help us fight the guys that _will_ do what Morgoth's armies did back there in Gondolin." Yes, Narthas was referring to the Dark Lord's fiery machines of war that he unleashed upon the unsuspecting city way back in the First Age. She suspected that technology in and of itself didn't bother him much, but the idea of sentient robots unnerved him. Especially evil ones.

"Yeah, I know. If this is what's really going on, though, we need allies bad. Swords and arrows won't do a damn thing against these machines and mind-reading disciples of hate and chaos. We need what they have." He looked at Lauren but pointed at where the Autobots stood. "And they have knowledge that we don't. They have numbers. They have secrecy—"

Lauren filled in the last one for him. "They have guns."

* * *

"Are you two ready to go yet?" Hound asked through the false fur of his puma form.

Lauren hoisted herself up on her horse (damn her if she'd ever be able to do it with grace). "Yep." Miril stamped and snorted with unease. She wanted to get the hell back on the road again.

Narthas looked around at his four companions. "Let's do it?"

"Let's do it," they confirmed in unison.

And so the five were off. Following the mountains they headed eastward: two riding at a full gallop on horseback, with a bear and cougar beside them, and an eagle high above them. About twenty minutes at this pace, however, and the company slowed to a halt when they saw three craters litter the dry landscape. Each one was maybe fifteen feet across, give or take, and the grass at the bottom was blackened. "Is this where you landed?"

"Sure is," Hound said, leaping into one of them and sniffing around. After a moment he leapt right back out. "Nothing out of the ordinary here. Good. Let's keep going."

The others nodded and they were back up to pace again.

As the miles passed, the landscape began to slowly change. In their third hour of travel, about ninety miles having gone under their feet, the land was no longer as hilly and dry, occupied by little more than tinder-worthy brush, rocks, and the occasional tree. The ground started to green up a bit as well as flatten out, and more trees appeared. It seemed as the nearer to the Anduin Valley they drew, the more akin to meadows the landscape grew.

"All right you guys," Narthas announced. "We should be coming up on a river soon, and up there, those trees; that's the Firien Wood." Lauren looked out where he pointed and in the distance was a vague shadow that protruded out from the base of the mountains. That, she guessed, was the wood. "That, I think, is where we'll be stopping for the night too."

It was a good plan. It was about seven or eight o'clock and the sun was dying. By the time they reached the river, it would be dark. The girl and her elf had been on the road almost all day, and quite frankly, her butt hurt. If she came out of his journey permanently bow-legged, she'd shank somebody without a doubt. Preferably Quinn.

A few hours passed and they had reached the cover of the trees right after the sun disappeared over the horizon, just as Narthas predicted. Being a little more comfortable with their predicament, Lauren assumed, the three Transformers reassembled themselves back into humanoid robots to take a rest. The elf got to work at building a fire. Lauren was instructed to gather wood while her partner in crime took the bow and quiver to go hunt. With armfuls of wood and dry leaves, she tried to make more conversation with the aliens as she walked back and forth past their sitting forms. "So Cybertron really exists in this same universe, but just as a different planet?"

"Yeah," nodded Gasket. "The only kind of travel we had to do to get here was of the kind that can be measured in miles."

"That's crazy," she said, dropping another small pile of wood. The bark itched on her bare forearms. With a huff, she sat down next to Hound. "So that means that Cybertron doesn't exist on the same plane as Earth, right?"

"No, it does."

Lauren's mouth dropped at the idea. Did that mean she could go home? Could she return to Earth and haunt people she knew? "Wait… does that mean I can… go back? Like, now, if I wanted to?"

Gasket shook his head. "No. Well, not by conventional means. It's kind of complicated, but I know that Earth is protected in a way from us dead people. I don't think the laws of this universe permit us to return. Or at least in any way that we've come up with."

"Have people tried?"

"Oh, sure. Fans get homesick. They miss their families and their stuff, and their old life. But we aren't even allowed to enter the atmosphere. We burn up completely and get tossed back into the Waypoint, where we have to start over, sort of."

Lauren scratched her chin and thought for a moment. "That really complicates things; Earth being almost within reach and all. I would even go so far as to say that was a stupid idea, even, on the part of whoever created the universe and all."  
A thought came to her, and she remembered Narthas' super secret tear back in Lothlorien, and she wondered if she should tell them about it. No, that seemed to her a thing for the elf to reveal. It was his business. But... it was a dangerous discovery. Especially now, since that portal and that portal alone was the only -known- way for fans to reach Earth again... she had managed to stick her head through to the other side without imploding or catching on fire or disintegrating, right? Yes, she could trust Narthas to decide who would be best to tell.

It was a good amount of time later when the elf returned with three rabbits in his hand, hunting bow, unstrung, and quiver in the other. "Good," he said, smiling at Lauren. "Nice fire." She nodded at him in recognition.

It was some time later, after another more successful attempt at teaching Lauren to clean and prepare game, cooking said game, and eating it, did Narthas start to get tired. The Autobots were incredibly fascinated by the whole process of preparing the rabbits, finding Lauren's reaction to be nothing less than amusing.

"I think I'm going to bed," the elf declaired. He rose from the fire and stretched, cracking his back in a few places and sighing. "If I'm the only one that needs sleep here, then… try not to wake me up?"  
Lauren laughed at her friend. "Aww, haha. Poor Narthas. You're the only real organic thing here, aren't you?"

He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and played with a few small knots. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Get some good sleep," the girl said and held out her fist to him. The elf blinked at the gesture for a moment before realizing what he was supposed to do. He balled his hand and touched his fist to hers in a motion of camaraderie, then saluted to them all and headed off to bed.

"See you bright and early, guys."

Lauren sighed and reclined onto the ground, looking up through the trees at the night sky.

"Hey," she heard Hound say, then a giant face came into view and peered down at her, luminescent blue optics blinking. "You mind if we power down for a little while too?"

She sat up and Hound took a step back. Honestly, it hadn't even occurred to her that the bots needed to conserve energy just like people did. They couldn't just keep going forever without taking a break. They weren't machines… or wait. Lauren laughed a little to herself. "Alright, yeah sure, go ahead. I don't need to rest so I'll keep a lookout."

"Well, Gasket here doesn't need to rest either. He can keep watch with you."

Lauren glanced at the friendly transformer fanboy and smiled at the similarity. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

"If you two need anything," Airlock said as he settled down a little ways away from the fire. "Just holler and we'll be back on in no time."

"Sure thing."

Lauren stood up and idly wandered past Gasket over to the edge of the trees next to the river. Behind her she heard the heavy footsteps. "I may be a fuckin' robot now, but I can still admit that it's pretty here." The ranger looked behind her at Gasket, optics transfixed on the clear heavens. She grinned and continued to look upward herself. "Hound loves it."

"Hm?"

"I said Hound loves it here. You watched the cartoons, didn't you? I mean, you're old enough, right?"

She turned around and looked at him. "Haha, well, not really. I grew up watching Beast Wars and the related franchises. But I'm pretty familiar with the original cartoon if that's what you mean."

"Well, yeah. I donno if you remember or not (I do) but like, I remember Hound loving Earth a lot. I even remember something about him wishing he were human too, but mostly he liked Earth because it was beautiful and stuff."

She laughed a little bit, but felt a little awkward and didn't really know what to say.

"We've only been here for a day," Gasket continued. "But I think he really likes Middle-earth."

She nodded some. "I see." But that was a good thing, right? He would be far more compelled to fight these guys now that he had some attachment to this world. When she thought about it a little more, the entire scenario seemed extremely dream-like. "So how much of a transformers fanatic do you have to be in order to want to devote your entire afterlife to being a robot?"

Gasket laughed a strangely human laugh before answering. "Well, how much of a Tolkien fanatic do you have to be in order to devote your entire afterlife to being stuck in the middle-ages?"

Lauren burst out in a laugh herself. "Fuck you," she said at length, meriting rounds of laughter from them both again. She had to admit that he had a good answer, though.

The silence that passed was no longer awkward, but content. The robot took to sitting down behind her and she reclined against his metallic leg as they looked at the sky. A question arose in Lauren's mind, though; a pressing concern that she had to voice.

"Do you think the Decepticons and the Sith and whoever else is allied with them will be hard enough that we'll have to call for reinforcements?"

"What, you mean more Autobots?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly, I don't know. Hound is under direct orders from Optimus, though, to call for help if he needs it. I mean, if we can't afford to lose this war. If we lose, so does everyone else."  
Lauren nodded quietly. "I just don't know how in the hell we're going to be able to do this… as far as I know, and as Narthas knows, and the organization responsible for keeping the fan system under control and under wraps knows, no fans have yet revealed themselves to any real residents of Middle-earth. We've got to play that "in disguise" game every day we're around anyone that it could put in danger. And I mean, we look like them. We talk like them. We think like them. And still, it would be devastating if we were found out. But… to think that you guys could be thrown into the mix. Or aliens. Or anything of an otherworldly nature, really. People would freak out. There would be riots. There would be mobs. There would be persecution of all kinds."

"Well, think of it this way: either risk that and deal with those consequences as they arise, or risk killing thousands and enslaving the rest. And not just on this planet, either."  
The girl sighed audibly. "Man, if I'd known the afterlife was gonna be like this, I would've--"

"Done what? Picked the easy route and gone to heaven?"

"No, I… I don't know. I guess I'm glad that I get to be part of this. All this would've been happening regardless of my presence here right? Right. So I guess in that sense, I'm glad that I have to opportunity to try and protect Middle-earth from this inevitable tumult."

Just then, a strange thing happened. She heard Gasket begin to say something, but another voice cut him off. A voice that she didn't like whatsoever.

"_How touching._"

Gasket immediately jumped up, and Lauren hit her head on the side of his leg. Standing up as well and rubbing the small lump forming on her scalp she looked behind them to see two dark, cloaked figures, their faces completely hidden in shadow.

"Who the fuck are you," Lauren demanded, though deep down she knew the answer.

A cackling chuckle emanated from the one on the left. "Such an bold young lady," the voice darkly chided. "Xar, teach her fear."

"As you wish master."

"Gasket, I think it's time to holler for Hound's help." She stared at the approaching shadow, and suddenly a red light ignited in the familiar form of a blade. "**_GASKET, RUN!_**" she screamed, and darted off upstream to where the dying fire was.  
Close behind her was the Autobot. He seemed to realize that no matter how hard she tried, he could still outrun her, so up she went in his oversized metal hand. "**_HOUND! HOUND! AIRLOCK! NARTHAS! HOUND! WAKE UP! WAKE THE FUCK UP!_**"

They had almost reached the campsite before Lauren suddenly found herself tumbling to the ground. Looking behind her, she saw that Gasket was being held in the air by the Sith apprentice. Oh no, she thought. Oh god, oh god, oh god. All of us were going to die. That's it. We're going to die. And I'm going to die again.

The ground rumbled and Lauren scrambled to her feet when the two remaining Autobots rushed onto the scene, arm cannons hot and firing. "Get outta here, Lauren!" Hound said. Without another word (and almost sure she'd wet herself) she made to duck behind a tree, but ran into Narthas (literally). The elf grabbed her arm with one hand and his sword was in the other. "What the hell is going on?" he sputtered.

"SITH!" was all she could say. "We're going to die we're going to die we're going to die!"

Sounds of battle filled the air as Lauren and Narthas remained behind the tree. They watched as the three robots and two dark force-users duked it out in front of them. The apprentice named Xar and his master were extremely skilled in combat, and due to the recent events, knew how to fight Transformers. Their light sabers were too flimsy to bat away the powerful blasts from the robots' guns, though. Unfortunately, however, they were really good at dodging the attacks. Xar, which was doing most of the work, it seemed, had managed to get close enough to Airlock to do a roll between his feet and slash at his ankles. The robot let out a pained cry before stumbling forward and firing at the Sith in a frenzied rage. The master lifted Gasket into the air again and threw him against a tree. Luckilly, Hound managed to land a hit on his arm while he was occupied with the flying bot.

"You cannot win against the dark side of the Force," the master spat. "We finish this now!"

"I'm going to go for him," Narthas whispered.

"No, don't do it!" she replied quietly.

"They're going to kill them!" he hissed. "And then we're next!"

She watched as both master and apprentice stood side by side and simultaneously lifted all three Autobots into the air, and send out fearsome arms of lighting at them. She couldn't watch anymore. She wasn't about to let them die like that. Snatching the sword from Narthas' belt before he had the opportunity to react, she darted off behind the Sith and approached the master from behind. Lauren heard him laughing at the robots pain. With a sudden fit of anger, she lifted the blade high above her head, and brought it down swiftly, just as he turned around to see her. The three Autobots dropped to the ground as Xar stepped over to Lauren, saber drawn.

"Lauren!" her four companions shouted at the same time. But before she could move, he knocked her to the ground with a fierce shove of the force. His hood was thrown back, and she saw that he was covered in black and red tattoos, marking him as a devout follower of the Sith order. There was hate in his eyes.

"Fool," he said to her. His voice was low and calm, though the animosity was unmistakable. "You die now."

With a speed that hardly registered with her brain, he swung his saber at her, and a white hot pain filled her abdomen. The world grew slow and silent, but she could still see him standing above her, clear as day, as he brought his light saber up over his head. A flash of light caught her attention off to the left, and it also caught Xar's. He turned his head just in time to get hit in the chest with a powerful energy blast from Gasket's wrist-mounted cannon. It knocked him a good six feet or so back; he was no longer in Lauren's field of spotting vision. The world moved even slower than before now. She saw Narthas run to her side, his hands around her stomach, and then picking her up. She saw his mouth move, but she didn't hear words, and she vaguely felt him kiss her hair before everything went black.


	12. On Blood and Urgency

"She's awake! She's awake!" 

"Unh…"

"By the gods, she's alive! Lauren, keep your head down. Don't sit up."

The girl opened her eyes rather groggily and just as Narthas had told her not to, she sat up. A groaning gurgling noise escaped her as reality came back. She looked around her and saw the same familiar four companions crowding near. The elf was kneeling in front of her, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment.

"I have no idea how you survived that," he said.

"I'm dead remember?"

"Well I would think since you were given a mortal body, that it has mortal limitations. And getting disemboweled seems like pushing mortal limitations to me."

Lauren lit up. "Oh, what? I was disemboweled?! Holy shit that's frickin' cool!" She immediately looked down at her stomach and began assessing the best means of removing the bandage that was wrapped around her midsection. But as soon as she touched the material, the elf slapped her hands away.

"You really don't want to see it," Gasket said. "There was like, blood. Everywhere."

The girl huffed and folded her arms. "Fine." She poked at the wound instead, and was greeted by a dull ache. "It doesn't really hurt anymore though…"

Narthas shook his head warningly.

"Where did the Sith apprentice go? Did he escape?"

Narthas cleared his throat, but Hound answered. "After we shot him, he jumped right back up and put this force field up around him and ran off into the darkness. I swear, we couldn't locate him at all. Before we knew it though, we saw his ship take off from a few hundred yards away and disappear."

The girl chewed on her lip in a pensive manner. "Well, damn. I highly doubt that will be the last we see of him though. Sith are very much into the whole death-dealing and revenge thing." With that she motioned to stand up, but Narthas would have nothing of it.

"You're not going anywhere, got it?" he said. "You need to rest."

"Calm down, you!" she said, waving at him dramatically. "It's not like my legs are broken or anything."

"You just lost a good portion of your large intestine and liver is all." He looked at her from under his brows, folding his arms as he watched her stand up.

"There, see? I can stand up just fine. Quit your worrying."

Gasket pointed at her and grinned. "Just don't cough or sneeze or you'll start bursting with blood again."

Lauren laughed, but the others did not.

"You humans are so morbid," Airlock sighed.

"Come on, Gasket, let's talk about motherboard mods and spyware." Lauren braced herself a little against the nearby tree and giggled like a mischievous child.

Hound closed his optics and shook his head. "Now that is just wrong."

"I hate it when the screwdriver skips on the treads, and then you lose some of them… or if you can't rip off the side of the CPU without much trouble. Or when you finally do, there's a bunch of pieces of food and dust all up inside. But it's when you start removing pieces of hardware and replacing them with new ones, or getting into the circuitry and soldering stuff onto the cards and motherboard--"

The girl and previously-human-robot laughed it up at the reactions of the two other Autobots. Narthas didn't seem to understand what the big deal was at all, but he spoke up for them nonetheless. "Alright, alright. If you're well enough to crack crass jokes, then you're well enough to keep going."

She was stopped in her proverbial tracks. "What, already?"

"Well, it's almost sunrise anyways," the elf said, pointing away east. Sure enough, the horizon was rimmed with a pinkish glow. "You were out for hours. Besides, what does it mean to you?" he chuckled. "You don't need to sleep."

"True," Lauren mumbled. "But what about Hound and Airlock?"

"We agree with Narthas," Hound said. "We really should get going. I think the closer we are to civilization, the less likely we will be attacked again. Besides, this Fen needs to know of the recent developments."

"True again."

"Well, come on!" Narthas said, beckoning her with dramatized gestures. "Minas Tirith is only about 150 miles away!"

"We're that close?" she gawked.

"If we get going, and keep up the pace like we have been, we just might be able to get there by this next nightfall."

"Well, hot damn! What are we waiting for? Lauren said.

Hound laughed. "You!"

* * *

The camp was disassembled rather quickly, and despite wanting to feel useful, Narthas would have nothing of the sort. She was forced to remain on Miril's back -after having gotten there in the first place with a little help- while the elf cleaned up the area, with the robots helping where they could. 

When the bags were finally packed up once again and bathroom breaks dealt with, the first tendrils of the day filled the land with a crisp, faint, golden light. Lauren looked upon the day differently. It would be her last serious day on the road, and she would have finally met her goal of getting to Minas Tirith. It'd been almost a month since she first stepped out into the Barns & Noble bookstore with Nicole, wide-eyed and ignorant to the trials that lay ahead for them, but the more she thought about it, the more it dawned on her that even though she was close to the White City, her journey was far from over.

There was a secret war that needed fighting.

"So what's the plan once we get close?" The girl said, suddenly professional.

"Uhm…" Narthas stroked his chin and thought. "We keep away from the main road for as long as we can manage, these three stay away from the Rammas as far as you can." He breathed out in a pensive manner, recalling maps and distances and landscapes from memory. "The Grey Wood comes pretty close to the wall, a mile or two. You should be safe there for a while, if you stick as close as possible to the mountains." Narthas looked upon the three Autobots, who were now in their slightly less conspicuous alternate animal forms.

"You have to promise to tell us everything Fen tells you when you go into the city though," Hound said. "I don't know if you're a military man, but this is most certainly a military matter now."

"Oh, I do have a history in battle, believe me."

"Alright, so where do I come in?" Lauren looked at them all, suddenly feeling left out of all the shenanigans.

"Your job will be intelligence too. Keep your eyes and ears open and focused on the fan underground. Make sure rumors of strange things are kept in check, and for the love of the Valar, make sure DERIF does not get wind of this at all. Cover all the tracks."  
She smiled. Her purpose seemed important once again. "Got it," she nodded. "What happens if we have more encounters?"  
Narthas sighed and ran his fingers through his hair (she began to recognize this as a nervous habit of his). "Er, if we see any more signs at all of any invasions, of any more spies, we call for backup on both fronts. Hound, that means you."

"Roger that!"

"Lauren," Narthas continued, gesturing at her. "We're going to head directly into the city when we get there. I'm going to go speak with Fen, and you're going to grab us a room at the Guesthouse. I'm going to wake up bright and early in the morning and head up to the Citadel, speak with a few friends I've got in high places just to get an idea of what Residents know. I haven't been on this side of Rohan in months, so I need to catch up."

That seemed like a reasonable plan. "Gotcha. That it?"

The elf smiled and shook his head. "That's all I got for now."

"You three heard all of that?"

"Sure did," Gasket said.

"I think we're ready to go then," Narthas said, patting his massive horse. "Let's go?"

Lauren grinned. "Let's go! Autobots," she called out dramatically. "Roll out! YEAH!" She always wanted to say that.

With a dig of her heels, her horse darted off away East, Narthas right beside her, and a posse of huge animals just behind them.

* * *

Dawn came pretty quickly.

Lauren's hair fluttered in tangling knots behind her (she'd never get used to it at such a length) as the horses picked up speed.

"I forgot to tell you!" Narthas shouted. "That river back there was the border between Gondor and Rohan!"

The girl glanced behind her for a brief moment then nodded dramatically. She didn't quite feel like shouting this early in the morning.

They rode on for several hours, with a short pit stop for Narthas about two or three hours in. They took another food break at high noon, quick and anxious, before continuing on again. At maybe one o'clock they hit the main road. It was a broad dirt path loosely lined with stones and grasses. Lauren looked down and saw footprints and hoof prints in the dust, a telltale sign of considerable traffic. To her dismay, she realized that they were fated to run into at least one person while on the road. Out of nowhere, Narthas' arm shot out and pointed away south toward the mountains on their right. "The Minrimmon beacon," he announced. "About four or five thousand feet up. We're almost halfway there!"

"Airlock!" the ranger called, looking up at the giant bird gliding above their heads.

The bird glanced down at her and blinked in that twitchy avian way, but a distinctly sentient voice replied. "Your command, ma'am?"

Lauren's brain shorted for a moment as she processed being referred to in military terms, but she gained her bearings quickly enough. "Gain altitude!" she shouted. "I don't want rumors spreading about giant eagles being seen in Middle-earth again!"

"Got it!" he confirmed before beating his great wings. Sure enough, he began to get smaller.

"You two!" She addressed Gasket and Hound. "Stick closer to me."

"Airlock says there's a caravan up the road about a mile," Hound said as he ran alongside Miril.

"How do you know?"

"Radio communications!"

"Haha, whoever built you guys didn't leave out anything! Lucky bastards."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Narthas smile and roll his eyes. "How did I know you'd settle into the leader's role without much trouble?"

Lauren turned to her friend and grinned. "Cause I'm just like you, but with more points in charisma!"

"I was going to think up a witty comeback, but then I realized that you're right!" The elf shrugged.

It was a few minutes later when Lauren first saw the dark dots of the caravan up ahead. She squinted and saw several shapes: four men on horseback followed by what seemed to be a line of pack mules and a pair of other larger animals… maybe oxen?

"Merchants," Narthas said, confirming her suspicions. Of course. Now that the war was over, the road between Rohan and Gondor was a busy one, making up for all the lost years of trade. Economies were booming, and people were happy once again. Lauren hoped it would remain that way. "I think the worst that will happen," the elf mused. "Is that we'll get some strange looks."

"What about rumors?"

"Bah." He waved dismissively with his hand and knitted his brows together. "Rumors spread about everything. The only thing we have to worry about right now is the truth leaking." Lauren nodded in agreement. "Oh! Here they come."

The group was not moving nearly as fast as they were, and had probably been on the road for a few days already. As they drew nearer, the girl counted eight pack mules and three oxen, but then her worst fear came true.

"Hail! Hail, my lord and lady!"

The first and foremost man in the group slowed his company to a halt, and waved his hand at the two strange passerby. Gasket and Hound hung close to Lauren, and she could tell they were terrified of the situation. She saw a distant blue glow of robotic optical systems deep inside the amber eyes of the cougar next to her, and they were screaming "what the hell do we do?"

"Lie low," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "And act like animals." She glanced upward, pleased to see Airlock circling above them.

Narthas looked at her sidelong for a split second before stepping out in front of the girl and her strange animals.

"Of what service may I be, stranger?" The elf said, self-consciously touching the hair covering his ears before grasping the reigns once again.

The group of men grew silent, their eyes upon Lauren and the giant bear and cougar at her side. Whispers rose among them, but the elf cleared his throat, commanding their attention.

"We… we wish to know the health of the Mering? Or does it, too, run dry from this heat?"

"The river runs low, traveler, but there is still water to be drunk from it." She saw their eyes wandering again, and she assumed that Narthas did too. "But who might you be, and from whence did your company come?"

"Ah, my apologies, lord. I am Gethron, son of Guilin of Minas Tirith, and these are my men: Tilion, Aravir, and Fastred."

"Well met, friend. I am Narthas son of Neldored of Dol Amroth, and this is my niece, Fealai."

Lauren smiled to them but kept her mouth shut.

"May I be so bold as to ask why you have wild beasts such as those in your company?" Aravir spoke up, pointing at the two Autobots. Upon being made the center of the conversation, the two of them shrank back a little, but after an awkward pause, Gasked managed to behave a little more like a bear and let out a loud snort. "They follow you like servants and yet are not bound to you by any means that my eyes can see."

"I have been charged with their keeping for many years now," she said, her voice wavering the slightest bit at being put on the spot. "Tame as lapdogs, they are."

"Never have I seen such beasts so large," Lauren caught Tilion murmuring to Fastred.

"Aye," was the hushed reply.

Narthas broke in, not wanting to linger with strange company for too long. "We must be on our way, men. Now if you will leave us to our business in peace, we will leave you to yours."

Gethron shot a suspicious look at the elf (Lauren wasn't sure if they knew he was such) and rubbed the stubble on his face pensively. What had started out as a benign encounter was becoming noticeably uncomfortable.

"Aye," he said at length, and then nodded. After another moment, he cleared his throat and recomposed himself, sitting high in his saddle. "Good day to you both then! We will be on our way; it is a long ride to Edoras."

Narthas smiled carefully. "It is indeed," he agreed, then added: "Friend."

"Farewell son of Neldored!" Gethron said, before ushering the rest of his company into movement. The caravan passed them before long, and when they were a good enough distance away, everyone switched codes and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm afraid that's only the beginning of the shit we'll have to put up with," the elf stated flatly.

Gasket groaned. "I was so nervous that I almost fried my processor."

"I hate when that happens." The cougar turned to the bear. "I'm afraid there won't be a mechanic to help you start up again if it happens, though. If you feel yourself starting to overheat, just keep breathing. The air circulation cools your system down."

The bear nodded. "How much farther, Narthas?"

"Another fifty, sixty miles until we hit Druadan forest. Up until then, you two still have to play big and dumb because we'll be out in the open."

The Autobot nodded distastefully, but Lauren was busy thinking. "Wait."

"Hm?"

"Gethron said they were heading to the river we stopped at, right?"

"Yeah."

"What did you guys do with the Sith's body?" The girl went pale from recalling the memory but also fear of the consequences should Xar's master be found.

"Don't worry." The elf's voice was distant, but reassuring. "We buried him in a good, deep grave." Lauren nodded. "Speaking of, I'd like to check on that wound of yours while we're stopped."

"Yes!" she cheered. "Hound, you can call Airlock down if you want."

"Sure thing."

Narthas dismounted his horse and gestured for the girl to do the same. She did, and they settled themselves on the side of the road, pulling the animals in a crude circle around them. A moment later and a giant eagle joined their numbers.

"Alright, just take a seat there…"

Lauren sat herself down on a rock and Narthas knelt down in front of her, assessing the situation of the bandage around her stomach. Faint red stains peered through the linen, betraying the real situation hidden underneath.

Narthas reached to her side carefully, and grabbed the end of the bandage that was tucked tightly behind another band. After what seemed like an eternity of unraveling the thing, the front of her tunic was exposed, in all it's dark, bloodstained glory. Perhaps she really didn't want to see the open gory mess that was her stomach.

Seemingly have read her mind, the elf made a quick suggestion. "You can look away if you want…"

Lauren was a Capricorn, which meant she was headstrong and stubborn as hell. "Don't worry, I'm a big kid."

Her 'uncle' sighed and shook his head, murmuring "If I had a copper bit every time I've heard that…"

Before she was able to compose herself however, the tunic was flung up to reveal her midsection…

…or at least what was left of it.

When Lauren's stomach lurched with nausea, she saw it move. Or at least she thought that huge red gooey organ near the top was her stomach. Her face grew hot and the rest of her grew cold and yes, she looked away. "Am I allowed to recall what I said? Cause I'm getting a really awful taste in my mouth right about now."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise." It was even more disturbing that she felt the breath in his reply in that gored, burned cavity. The girl wanted to vomit.

"You alright Lauren?" Gasket said, lumbering closer. "You don't look so good."

"I, uh. I… gross." Gravity suddenly seemed to grow really strong, and Lauren had no choice but to give into it. The last thing she felt was her head hitting the ground before passing out again.

* * *

"Oh, she's up again." She could discern Hound's voice through the fog in her brain. There was something softish and moving under her head, then a familiar face came into view. 

"Am I really that much of a pussy?" she asked, voice cracking and groggy.

Narthas nodded. "I'm afraid so. But again, I promise not to tell anyone."

"How long was I out this time?"

"Only a few minutes. Just long enough time to stitch it up."

"You sewed me up??"

"I had to! It was just begging for infection, or gangrene, or for you to freak out from looking at it again and pass out."

Lauren lay still for a moment with her head in the elf's lap, thinking. "I don't think it's going to heal."

"What, why?"

"I don't think this body I've been given has the ability to heal itself. It's not a real body. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't regenerate parts."  
"Oh, that's ridiculous! I can't imagine that fans never get hurt, or else they'd be walking around with open wounds for the rest of eternity."

She nodded slowly. "Maybe you're right. This body seems pretty fake, though. I think the kinks still have to be worked out."

"Haha. Anyways. Do you think you're in any shape to continue riding right now?"

Lauren sat up and Narthas released her without a fight. She rubbed her head where it hit the ground, brushed herself off, and stood up. "No, we need to go. We have to get to Minas Tirith ASAP."

The elf looked up at her and shook his head in agreement before rising himself.

"Are you three ready to go again?"

Hound looked to Airlock and Gasket, each of them nodding in turn. "We are."

* * *

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, which Lauren could have safely guessed was to everyone's relief and satisfaction. As soon as they approached the Druadan Forest, the sun was hovering on the western horizon and they quickly got off the beaten path. The Autobots transformed back into their robotic forms once again and they took a quick breather. A snack and a whiz later, they were back on the road once again. At long last, they reached the edge of the forest, a portion called the Greywood, and the company had found themselves standing on a hill, looking out over the Anduin Valley. Far out in the distance, to the south, Lauren made out hundreds of tiny orange lights, and a smile spread across her face. 

Minas Tirith.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lauren had an odd sort of doubt about whether or not she would ever reach her goal of getting to where she was right then. It was the first thing she set her mind to when she found herself in Rivendell so many weeks before, and back then Gondor seemed so far away. Well, it was, but it seemed so incredibly distant in another way that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to see it in the light that she wanted to: ignorant and simple, without any other complications. Without other fans interrupting. Without a goddamned war that she had to fight now. Minas Tirith seemed to be the _real _fan headquarters, not Rivendell. With all of this new knowledge that she had, with all of these circumstances she was made aware of, she knew that DERIF was not the iron-fisted, big brother organization that they made themselves out to be. Or maybe they were, but there were still lots of things they were completely unaware of. But at this point, little of any of that mattered at all.

All Lauren knew was that after weeks of hard travel, fighting, puzzling, and getting scared shitless several times, she had finally reached her destination.

She also knew that her journey was still far from being over.


	13. On Minas Tirith

"Alright." Narthas Randomië addressed the Autobots as they were halted there on the hill. "The three of you need to stay here. You need to stay in this area until one of us returns with more information and, hopefully, an idea of what needs to be done next."

The giant robots nodded, but Hound knelt down to be more at eye level with the two fleshlings. "I've got one request, if you two don't mind."

"Shoot."

"We really are gonna need to refuel soon here. Could you get your hands on some sort of energy for us? I understand that Mithril's out of the question, but… fossil fuels, batteries; I can convert almost anything."

The elf scratched his head, then looked up at the robot. "The only sort of fuels we've got here is wood and oil… so I'll see what I can bum off Fen."

"Ah, thank the Matrix. You're a good man, Narthas. Now you two get over there and see what you can see." Hound pointed away south at the Tower of Guard.

Lauren grinned, her face illuminated by the six glowing optic systems, and saluted up to the Autobot soldier. "Yes, sir!"

Narthas chuckled at her and saluted at Hound too. The two mounted their horses again, but the elf had one more word to share before they left the robots in the wilderness. "Try to stay within a half-mile radius of this. Be especially careful of that hill over there. That's the Beacon of Amon Din, and it is manned. We'll be back in a few days."

With that Narthas and Lauren rode down the steep hill-face into the wide valley below. The waters of the River Anduin looked like a flat silver snake, slowly slithering through the land as it glistened under the moon. They found a rode nearby and followed the river south. As they rode, Lauren noted that they were passing farmland. Acres and acres of orchards and fields filled the valley, and little more than a simple wooden fence separated road from property. Off in the distance a dog barked.

"Look," was all she heard from her companion beside her, and she looked off to their left in the direction that he pointed. About fifteen miles to the east, she saw the silhouette of a great city built on the river. Orange specks dotted the black mass; Osgiliath was inhabited! "They started right after the war was over," Narthas continued. "I was called in to assess the plans and draw up new designs for the Reagent's Palace and the Forum of Falastur, which they're still working on." He paused for a moment, which Lauren took to be a sigh that she couldn't hear. "It'll be another ten years before the city is even half rebuilt, though. It's a shame that I don't have many memories of it in it's former glory."

But soon, the river city was lost in the distance as mists began to rise from the water. Up ahead Lauren saw what they were looking out for, though. A great wall rose up from behind the wheat, hops, and barley fields: a dark strip against the sky. And behind it, Minas Tirith.

"My butt hurts," Lauren said, adjusting herself in the saddle uncomfortably and giving a little wince.

"You mean that we've been traveling for weeks to get here, gone through all we've gone through, and all you have to say is that your butt hurts?" Lauren laughed at her friend. "Gods, you're insufferable!"

"Hey you know what? I'm not used to sitting on my ass for days and days."

Narthas laughed and dismissed the argument. "We're almost to the Rammas."

"Will the gates be open?" she asked, looking ahead and straining her eyes to see. Torches were lit on the high wall, but there was nothing to illuminate the sides.

"Aragorn has ordered for them to remain open always. So, no, we shouldn't be hindered when we pass through."

At the mention of that one man, Lauren was reminded of things from Narthas' past. His friendship with Denethor's family, and all such related drama and chaos. They slowed down as they neared the great arched gate, open and ready to receive them.

"Wait, you hate Aragorn, right?" She wanted to make sure it was something that was actually true, and not some facet of his psychology that she had completely fabricated.

The elf nodded. "That I do. But let's not talk about it."

They passed through the north-gate and rode on into the Pelennor Fields. It seemed to her now that the plots of land in this ten-mile wide encirclement were smaller than those outside, and it seemed to be an entire neighborhood of it's own. In between the compact vineyards and hops farms, there were wineries and distilleries to go along with them. Dotting the side of the road Lauren saw several storefronts for carpenters or glassblowers. There was even an inn several miles later, small, and probably with few patrons. But when the girl looked up again from the road in front of them, she saw the enormous shadow of Mindolluin against the starry sky, and at its base she could vaguely make out the seven tiers of the White City.

"MINAS TIRITH," she squeaked and closed her eyes tightly. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god."

Narthas laughed at her. "Yep. I've been here countless times and I still can't get over how beautiful it is."

She didn't really have any words to say about what she was thinking, so Lauren dug her heels into Miril's sides and the horse broke into a swift gallop.

"Hey!" she heard from behind. "Wait up!"

Fëarin seemed to be a faster horse than Miril, because Narthas caught up very quickly. His cloak billowed behind him like dark blue smoke, he was leaning forward considerably with the reigns tight in his hands, and his face was set with a mirthful determination. At that moment, Lauren had to admit that he looked pretty epic.

They reached the massive front gate soon after that. Despite the country being in peace-time, the wall was crawling with guards and soldiers. The entire scenario was so incredibly overwhelming, though, that she had to stop and gaze at the façade, blazing grey and orange in the finicky light of fires and torches. She turned her eyes upon every square inch of it and, damn her, compared it to Peter Jackson's interpretation. The styles were incredibly similar, yes, but Jackson's Minas Tirith lacked the richness of age and awe that model-makers on a movie set could never replicate.

"I see that you are a stranger to this city, milady?" Her trance was broken by the weathered, but kind voice of a guard standing next to her. He was outfitted in masterfully crafted plate armor, decorated with stars and the wings of birds. A scar along his jaw line told her that he'd seen battle, but his eyes didn't betray any such memories of bloodshed. His hair was black and straight, just like way descendants of Númenor were supposed to be instead of those pale-headed actors portraying the sons of the Steward. (She actually shouldn't have complained, because David Wenham and Sean Bean were two of her favorite people in the entire movie. But I digress.)

"Yeah I've never… I mean, aye, I've not been here before." Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was going to blow her cover!

"I see," he said, looking at the wall and gate with her for a moment. "If that is true, may I ask from what land do you hail?"

"Oh! I am from Dol Amroth," she lied, pointing to Narthas who was waiting patiently ahead. "And that is my uncle. He is here for business, but let me accompany him for I have never seen this place."

"Welcome!" he said, smiling up at her. He gestured at the open front gate before them with the long spear in his hand. "To the City of Kings. May your stay here be nothing short of the finest." With that he bowed to her and resumed his station beside the gate, and Lauren trotted through to Narthas' side.

"Making friends already, I see?" he murmured to her.

"Is everyone here that nice?" she whispered.

"Most of them are, but a lot of them aren't. I think the soldiers are nicest because they're just glad the war's over."

She laughed. "That makes sense."

"All right," the elf said at normal volume. "Over yonder lies the old Guesthouse. I should like for you to secure us lodgment and await my return; I must go seek counsel with my friend ere night falls too heavily." He gave her a wink.

"Ah! Yes milord; but please, be hasty about it for the hour is late."

"I shall try." He nodded and rode off in the opposite direction that she was supposed to go.

"Lampwright's Street," she read to herself. The sign stood in the middle of a near-empty square and pointed away east. She remembered this street! And this is where Pippin met Bergil, the son of Beregond. She was finally back on the trail of the Fellowship.

The echo of Miril's hooves on the stone pavers seemed a bit too loud for her comfort, and despite there not being anything she could do about it, the girl dismounted and walked alongside her horse anyways. Lauren still couldn't believe that she was in Minas Tirith. She had to admit that for a while there, her brain had almost completely forgotten that she was in Middle-earth at all. After all, wilderness was not something exclusive to Arda. But seeing this city with her own eyes was truly a smack in the face. This was where she was going to spend the rest of eternity because she was a Tolkien fanatic.

And she'd enjoy every last bit of it.

"Kay, I'm gonna leave you here now," she said as she stepped up to the Guesthouse. It was a fairly large building, built of stone, bricks, and wood. There didn't seem to be a stables in the immediate vicinity, but there were tie-offs for the reigns out front. Lauren loosely wrapped the leather straps around the wooden beam and instructed the steed to stay put again, before stepping up to the door, taking a deep breath, and opening it.

The interior resembled that of the Spear and Saddle back in Edoras, except it was larger. Despite the heat, one of the two hearths was ablaze. The pungent atmosphere was thick with drunken voices, raucous (but good natured) laughter, and loud, stumbling stories. The tavern was filled with men, old and young, and the women serving them were the very embodiment renaissance faire wenches.

"Excuse me, miss?"

"Hm?" Lauren blinked and turned to the voice. She realized the innkeeper was addressing her. "Oh! Hello. I'd like to get a room for… just one night, please. Oh, and with two beds."

"Two, eh? Alright. That'll be two silver bits then, miss."  
Crap. "I, uh… My uncle has… is charged with my funds. He will be joining me later tonight. I promise that he will pay our bill ass soon as he arrives."

"Ah…" The innkeeper rubbed his short, scruffy beard and looked at her with aged eyes. "May I ask the name of your uncle?"

"Narthas, sir."

"Narthas! I could never forget such a character," he chuckled. "Sure, sure. He is a trustworthy man by my book. Strange though, that he never mentioned any brothers or sisters of his around here."

"Ah, yes, well… he is very kind to have taken me in after the war."

"What's that you say?" he asked, then a shock came over him, and he was suddenly sobered. "Oh! I am truly sorry for your loss, my dear. Yes… there are many little ones that lost much of their family also." He nodded gravely.

"Yes, well… let us not dwell on it." Lauren said. She didn't want to have to pull any more lies out on the spot, because she might start contradicting herself… or saying things that contradicted what this guy knew about Narthas already. That would be bad. "But about that room?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. If you would follow me." The old innkeeper stepped out from behind the bar and beckoned her to follow him across the tavern to some stairs in the corner next to the hearth, and up they went to the second level. "Lavatory is at the end of the hall," he said, pointing in a direction that she didn't pay attention to. "And here is your room." He turned the knob on a door marked 103, and opened up to a relatively spacious room with a window at the far end. A single candle burned on a bedside table that was nestled between two plush beds. "My name is Denlam. If there is anything that you need, don't be afraid to ask."

Lauren smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Denlan."

He left and closed the door behind him, leaving Lauren to herself in the near-dark room. The first thing she did was cross the wooden floor and fling open the windows to let some fresh air in, even though it was just as warm as the air already inside the room. Lauren went and claimed a bed, sitting on it and staring at the ceiling. She heard footsteps above her head, letting her know there was a third story to the inn. Her thoughts began to drift as she reclined on the bed, and the girl started to wonder about this Alt Fen character that Narthas was supposed to be meeting with.

How did he find Middle-earth to begin with? How did he manage to blend in enough to remain inconspicuous, despite being from Coruscant, for so many years? How did he get to and from Middle-earth without being discovered? Spacecraft weren't invisible or noiseless things. But then she began to wonder how exactly he met Narthas. Was it a chance meeting? Were they introduced through another fan? If so, who was this other fan? So many questions that suddenly popped up now that she had the chance to seriously think about it. But after a few minutes, her brain began to go in circles and so she gave up trying to puzzle out the situation and instead focused on her stomach.

Lauren idly unwrapped the fresh bandage around her waist and poked at the skin underneath. The wound, now that it was closed up, seemed to be less of a deal than it was. The seam that the sutures held together was maybe nine or ten inches from one end to the other, creating an almost straight line from the base of her ribs on the left side, to the hip bone on her right side. It looked eerily clean, with no traces of blood at all. She knew he must've wiped up the blood when he was done, but… there was none. A sudden and very macabre thought crossed her mind; Lauren found herself wondering what doctors would find if she let someone do an autopsy on her. But that was neither there nor here.

She wasn't quite sure when exactly she had fallen asleep but she was woken from her light slumber by rustling in the room. The candle had long since gone out, but at least Narthas was back. She saw his blotchy dark figure in the blackness, setting a large sack of something down, clanking as it hit the floor.

"What time is it?" she gurgled.

"A little past midnight."

"Did you pay the bill?"

"No, Denlan was asleep. I'll get to it in the morning."

She heard his boots thud on the floor, and his cloak was flung onto a chair. There was the rustling of bed sheets, then silence, then a sigh.

"How did it go?" She asked to the ceiling.

He grumbled into the pillow. "It's getting more complicated than we thought." Her heart began to race. "But I'll tell you all about it tomorrow." The elf yawned, rustled a bit more, then fell fast asleep.

Augh! He just had to be such a tease. Lauren huffed and flopped back down into bed, turning her back to him, and fell asleep maybe an hour later.

----

It was a combination of the first morning light to met her eyes and also the noises of Narthas being up and about that woke her up. "Wh… where are you going now?" Lauren blinked and stretched, cracked her toes and sat up.

"I'm going up to the Citadel." The elf was reorganizing bags at a leisurely pace. Lauren got up and walked over next to him and watched what he was doing tiredly.

"Oh, you got my bags off Miril?"

"Yeah, I put her away too. Can't have horses standing around in the street like that."

The girl itched at something in the corner of her eye. "Yeah, I totally forgot I had her out there… thanks."

Narthas gave her a pat on the shoulder. "No problem."

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"More than an hour. It takes forty minutes just to get up there," he chuckled.

"Who do you plan on speaking to anyways?"

"Uhm, preferably Faramir, Beregond, or some other advisors. I refuse to speak to Aragorn or Arwen."

"Ah. That's what I thought." She thought for a moment. "You're not going to… tell him anything… right?"

"Oh, gods no!" He looked almost taken aback. "I'm going to see what I can get from him without revealing a single thing."

She nodded. "Kay."

"Oh! This is for you." Narthas rummaged through a bag, and pulled out a small drawstring pouch. It was heavy as he dropped it into her hands. "Some spending money so you don't get bored."

A smile blossomed on her face and a light gasp escaped her mouth. "Really?" Lauren dumped the contents of the pouch into her open palm. She counted eight coins.

"Yep. That's eight gold crowns for you; worth a decent amount. Just don't go spending it all in one place."

"Can I buy myself some new clothes?"

"Haha, sure. Buy whatever you want."

"Can I buy myself a hobbit gimp?"

"If I were you, I'd buy two."

The girl shook with laughter.

"You see this sack here?" Narthas stepped away from the table and pointed at what looked to be a medieval body bag. She couldn't see what was inside, but it was almost full. "That's that fuel for the Autobots."

"Oh, cool. What did Fen give you?"

"Some sort of liquid type and also batteries, I guess." He shook his head and shrugged. "Most of this technology stuff is still beyond me."

Lauren patted him on the back and laughed. "I don't blame you. If this kid's a Star Wars fan, that technology is still way beyond me too."

Narthas hid the sack of gasoline and batteries in the empty wardrobe adjacent to the beds, in the off chance that someone might find themselves in their room and accidentally start rummaging through their things.

The two of them exited the building together and once again went their separate ways, leaving her to entertain herself on Lampwright's Street. The girl walked along the boulevard, now filled with people. She guessed that the road had been home to many a lamp-wright in the past, but she could only spot a scarce handful as she walked.

Nearer to the end of the street, there was a market square with a fountain in the middle. All throughout the street were vendors, calling out prices on their wares from wooden carts and hastily assembled booths. A majority of them were selling poultry, fruit, vegetables, sacks of grain, cheese, and other foodstuffs. What did she want to buy, exactly? She looked down at herself. Currently, her attire consisted of another set of Narthas's clothes, all a size too big. Plus, in this era, a girl in a man's garb was especially distressing. That's the first thing she would do. Lauren would take it upon herself to go buy a proper women's riding outfit.

Only a few more minutes of searching yielded a seamstress's shop. The storefront boasted an array of gowns that reflected the wide economic demographic of the clientele, ranging from peasant's outfits to elaborate, higher class ensembles. The girl stepped inside with confidence.

A small bell jingled when she opened the door, signaling to the owner and workers that a costumer had arrived on the premises. The walls were decorated with pre-made corsets, petticoats, cloaks, and the like.

"Good morrow to you, miss!" A cheery, female voice drew her attention to the counter some eight feet to her left. Behind it stood a woman, probably in her early thirties, of average height and average weight. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh! Hello," Lauren said, striding over to the counter. Behind the woman worked two others, one younger and one older. They were each working on a different garment as they sat on stools in front of cotton dress forms. "I'm looking to purchase riding garb for myself." She smiled.

"Ah, that will take some time, it will. What is your name?"

"Fealai."

"Would you like to begin now, Miss Faelai?"

"I would indeed."

The woman beckoned Lauren to come behind the counter. After motioning for her to remain in a corner in front of a mirror, she fetched a measuring tape as well as some writing implements. (Which reminded Lauren that she wanted some drawing materials if she had any money left after that.)

"A riding outfit, say you?" she asked as she began to take measurements of her newest patron. "For leisure?"

"Nay," Lauren shook her head. "Hard riding." In her head, the word 'combat' wouldn't leave her alone, but even mentioning fighting at this period in time would have merited a few questioning looks. Especially from a girl.

"Hard riding," she repeated, concentrating on her work. "Then a leatherworker must be consulted also."

Lauren only nodded, watching the woman as she took careful measurements of every part of her body, and marked the numbers in a small book.

"It will be of good construction, but will be made of simple, hardy materials."

Lauren laughed lightly. "Of course. Why should I want to ride out in silk and satin?"

It was a short while later when she was finished, and Lauren gathered her name: Ellárin. The girl was shown the basic design of the outfit, and was instructed that if she wanted other small touches and customizations to be made, she was to come in tomorrow. So far, the design called for light, tailored leggings, a split skirt, simple bodice, and a tailored tunic. But because Lauren had specified that it would be exposed to some wear and tear, the seamstress suggested leather reinforcement in some parts. Greaves, simple tassets, gauntlets, and a yolk would all be leather additions. It would drive the price up as well, which by the end of construction, would cost her 6 gold crowns. Lauren was disappointed upon realizing that she would still be walking out of the shop wearing Narthas' clothes, and so she bought herself a gold-yellow pre-made corset, and a dark grey, split cotton skirt, which she put on immediately. Those two items cost her a single crown, leaving her with one more to spend on art supplies.

With receipt in hand, Lauren left the shop called The Golden Thread in search of a sketchbook. She needn't look very far, however, for Scribe Co. (Finest Record &Bookkeeping Tools) was just across the way. Lauren figured that the north end of Lampwright Street was the Middle-earth equivalent to Rodeo Drive.

Scribe Co. was significantly smaller than The Golden Thread, mostly because their wares were significantly smaller than Ellárin's. She stepped into the store, which was lit by light through the front windows and also a grand old chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Shelves along the walls were lined with blank books of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were very large and elaborately decorated; others were far more demure. An assortment of letter-writing implements filled the counter and the shelves thereabout. Sealing waxes of every color were displayed. A small sign beside them revealed that custom seals were available upon request, and would take two days to manufacture. The table in the middle of the room held brushes and quills made from more birds than she could name. But it was when she looked upon the countless scores of stationary sets was she reminded of Nicole and Quinn, and the letter she promised to write them. Lauren reached over and plucked a humble packet of stationary for just that purpose.

"And what business would a fair lady like yourself have here?" The voice of an old man met her ears; his tone was more kind and curious than it was demanding.

Lauren looked up. "I have a friend up north that wishes to hear tidings from me."

"Ah, that is as good a reason as any," he said. "I see you've got parchment and envelopes in your hand, there. Might you need quill and ink as well?"

"Haha, that I do."

Lauren picked out a simple quill -featherless-, and a small pot of brown ink. She was about to approach the old shopkeep, before she realized that she had forgotten to buy a blank book to draw in. Grabbing one, she returned to the counter and waited to hear the damage.

The old man eyed the goods that she placed in front of him. "Sixty-four silvers," he announced after a short moment.

Lauren reached into the pouch at her side and produced the dull, worn, gold coin. He took it from her, and gave her two circular silver coins with a hole in their middles, and six oblong silver coins. The change confused her, but she put it away without debate.

With a nod, she thanked him. He gathered her things and put them into a small muslin bag for her, and threw in a stick of yellow sealing wax for free. She thanked him again. He gave her a warm wink. "To match your bodice, lady."

With a smile, she exited the store and stepped out into the market square again. Looking up to judge the position of the sun (it was an extremely clear, beautiful day), Lauren surmised that it was just about noon. Not quite sure where she was to meet Narthas again, she took a seat on the stone rim of the fountain and began to draw. Every few seconds she looked up to survey the people around her, children playing, women gossiping, and listened. After maybe ten minutes or so, though, one particular conversation caught her attention among the noise.

"…aye, like shadows, or so I hear."

"I've not heard anything more come from them other than suspicion, though. My husband--"

"Farond?"

"Yes, Farond. He and his brother went thither to Erech in response to a summons from their uncle not a week ago. And he said that he saw a small group of these folk with his own eyes, wandering the wilderness of western Gondor with neither horse nor any other beast of burden. What's more is that he called to them, but silent they remained -yes, like shadows-, their only answer being to disappear into the trees."

"Strange that is indeed." There was a brief pause, then an: "Oh! There is Gwenniel. Let us go to her."

That was when Lauren looked up at the two gossiping women as they lifted their skirts to scuttle off in the direction of an acquaintance.

Hmm. Shadows? Strange folk? That didn't sound natural. Actually, it sounded more like a new development in the war. Lauren pondered and puzzled for a few more minutes, taking notes in her little book now rather than drawing, when she was vaguely aware of someone sitting down next to her.

"The city is all the fairer during the day, when you can see it."

The girl didn't even have to look up to see that it was Narthas who was sitting there, gazing up at the six tiers of the city as they towered above them. She finally looked up at him, however, to speak. "How'd it go?"

The elf absentmindedly tucked a lock of near-black hair behind his ear, exposing it's lightly pointed tip. "There was not a single man there that would have provided me with impertinent information. The Lord Faramir has returned home for a short while, and any advisor that I would have sought out instead were sent to Osgiliath."

"Ah. Well, might I say that there are new developments that I can attest to."

The elf jerked his head toward her. She had caught his attention. "Tell me," he said.

"Small companies of strange folk dressed in shadows."

Narthas searched her face with his bright green eyes. "And?" he demanded. "Where?"

"In Erech? I have no idea where that is, though--"

"Erech," he cut her off and looked away, studying the ground pensively as he thought. Then in a shining moment of realization, Narthas slowly met her gaze once again. "Erech is just across from Edoras; on the other side of the mountains." He paused again and chewed the corner of his lip. "I can bet that these sightings have something to do with the attempted assassination of Eomer."

Not good.

The elf stood up abruptly and beckoned for Lauren to follow suit. "I know what needs to be done next. Come on, let's get back to the room."

* * *

"All right," Narthas said once they were back in relative privacy. The elf sat down on the edge of his bed and motioned for Lauren to sit across from him on her own bed. "I've got a plan."

The girl nodded. "Go."

"We're going to need to split up. No no, just for a little while. You see, we've spent all of this time thinking about what's been going on, and haven't given any thought to your future as a citizen of Gondor."

Lauren narrowed her eyes at the elf. "Oh, hell no. There is no way that I'm going to sit back and dick around while everyone else concerns themselves with this situation. I'm not going to pretend like nothing's happening." She folded her arms defiantly.

Narthas held his hands up and shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all. I need you. We all need you. Your knowledge of these other fandoms is an incredibly important asset that we can't afford to just shoo away. No, you're definitely going to play a good role in all of this." He lowered his defenses and adjusted his sitting position on the bed. "Now then. You," --he gestured to her here-- "Are going to live with Faramir for the time being."

Lauren blinked and her mouth parted. "Live… with Faramir? And Eowyn?"

"…for the time being," he finished for her. "I'm going to be honest. You need a place to live near the city. I've got homes in Lorien and Dol Amroth, but both of those are three days away at best. Minas Tirith is our home base, and you need to be here."

"What… where are you going to be then?"

Narthas sighed. "I will most likely be abroad. If we can anticipate any battles, or if we have missions planned, then I will let you know one way or another."

"We? Who's we?"

"Myself, the Autobots, and a few allies that Fen has gone to enlist."

"So Fen's gone? Back to wherever it is that he came from?"

Narthas nodded. "That's correct."

"Did he leave after you talked to him last night?" The girl knitted her brows and studied the elf sitting in front of her.

He gazed at her sidelong, as though she was saying something suspicious. "Why… do you ask?"

"He didn't take a ship out, did he?"

Narthas finally caught onto her subtle accusation, and abruptly stood up in response, making wild gestures at her. "He ASKED me to do it! It would save so much time, energy, and resources in the end, not to mention keep his project running smoothly and secretly!"

"I knew it!" the girl spat at him. She jumped up and stared fiercely into his fiery green eyes. "Goddamn it, Narthas! You lied to me! You fucking lied through your teeth! How in the hell are we going to be able to work as a team to defeat these guys if you can't be honest about anything!" She threw her hands up and stormed away from him to take a few moment's refuge on the other side of the room. Unfortunately, the elf followed her.

"I knew you were going to do this, regardless of when I chose to tell you!" he snarled at her. "In fact, you should be THANKING me for having Morithil do it if you truly care about the purity of this Middle-earth. Aikanaro ar' agar." He uttered the last words like an obscene curse.

Lauren turned around to see the angriest Narthas she'd ever seen before. With a few deep, loud breaths, she lowered her voice. "I know all of that. I know that portal kept whatever it is that he's dong up there secret. But you know what? It's not the fact that you opened a second rift that pisses me off. It's that you didn't tell me about it." She stared at him and after the last word left her mouth, Lauren saw him falter. His eyes softened before he closed them, and his threatening posture slackened. He heaved a great sigh.

"You're right… you're right. I should have told you. I'm terribly sorry."

Lauren studied him for a moment before giving one last sigh herself. She retreated back to the beds, took a seat, and Narthas sat next to her. "You gotta be able to be honest with me, dude. I mean, we are connected at the brain and all that. I only know everything about you from the third age back." The two sat in silence, staring at their feet, until Lauren spoke again. "You never told me about the conversation you had with Fen."

"Oh, right," the elf said. "Because it had been months since I met with him last, during that time he found out about the Sith alliance with an array of despicable creatures. So my information about the robots was old news. However, he discovered that the Mithril, in its purest form, is a potent energy source that the Decepticons are really starting to appreciate. He also got word through local gossip that the Sith had mines to the north, in the Iron Hills. Unfortunately, those sources were depleted after only a few weeks, and so it was abandoned. Where they are now, we can only guess. A pretty good guess would be that they're sending scouts southward in search of more veins…" he pondered his own words for a moment, before an 'aha' moment presented itself. "That's it!"

Lauren jumped. "What?"

"These shadows in the woods are scouting for mining locations in the foothills."

"But why those foothills?" She studied his pensive face, seeing that he was pulling up his intensely detailed and accurate mental map of the world.

"Think about that entire area. That portion of the mountains is where Edoras and Gondor are closest."

"So they are trying to get as close as they can to Rohan's capital without actually getting near at all since that region of the mountains is impassible as far as anyone can tell."

"Right. And what is so special about Edoras? Why are they showing so much interest in it?"

"There can't be a vein under the plains. The geology isn't right for things like that. What else is close to that town that would be of interest? Helm's Deep?"

Narthas began to pace. He went back and forth several times in silence before speaking again. "Alright… alright. What's in Helm's Deep that they would like?"

Lauren knew there was something else there, but her memory failed her. "I don't remember."

"Glittering Caves," the elf said, punctuating the statement with an index finger.

"There's a vein in the mountains?"

"It's all connected. Gondor's foothills are closer to Rohan's foothills than you think. They could mine either side."

"But why an attempt on Eomer's life? Why care about Rohan at all if they can dig in peace over here?"

"Because the caves had the mine dug out for them already. It would save time and labor."

"Alright, but what does that have to do with the King?"

Narthas paused. "A successful assassination would leave the throne open for rule by another. A new king means new ideas. New laws. New restrictions."

"A new king means forbidding anyone to get near Helm's Deep because of a secret mining operation inside that he plans on using to help fuel an alien war."

"Bingo."

"Fortunately, none of that happened, and the alien criminal is probably dead now. So they don't feel that a second attempt would be the wisest thing to do, and so they just looked past Edoras for now and are setting their sights on Gondor's half of the White Mountains."

"You're smarter than you look."

"Oh, shut up. So what do we do now?"

The elf stopped pacing and folded his arms across his chest. "Today, you ride out to seek Faramir in Ithilien. I go find the Autobots in the Greywood, let them refuel, discuss with them what we have done here, then head west with two of them. I want one of them to remain here with you just in case anything happens to us. In two days, I want you to come back to the city and go to The Underground--"

"The Underground?"

"It's Fen's club. Aptly named, I know. I'll write down directions for you. Anyways. In two days, return, go to the club. I'll meet you back there for further instruction. Got it?"

The girl nodded. "I think so. How are you so sure that Faramir will take me in, though?"

"He will. Tell him you're a friend of mine."

Another silence passed between them, though the air in the room was far from dead. In fact, it was charged with an incredible energy and anxiousness, tinged with a small hint of wanderlust, and projections of what great or terrible things awaited them, hidden behind the mists of the future.

"Should we leave?"

Narthas nodded. "We should."


	14. On Separation Anxiety

Narthas decided that he wanted a good meal before going back on the road again, and so the two of them sat down at a table in the tavern portion of the Old Guesthouse. Lauren took the opportunity to write a letter for Nicole while the elf stuffed his face.  
_  
"Dear Nicole & company-_

_I hope you guys made it to Greenwood the Great in one piece! It was a tough journey for us, and we ran into lots of exciting things along the way. How are you? I'm doing pretty well. I got a bit of a cut on my stomach, but nothing too bad. We ran into a couple of rowdy fans on our way east from Edoras, but Narthas and a few friends we made on the journey took care of them._

_I'm getting new spiffy clothes made, thanks to Nori. I was thinking that I might have the seamstress work in the logo of a fountain and some stars on it, you know? Cause my poor elf's grandfather was the leader of the house of the fountain. You probably don't remember that, but now you know. Ecthelion of Gondolin. Look him up sometime in those Halls of yours._

_How are you holding up without technology so far? I know I miss my computer and games a bit, but it's nothing I can't handle. If we need some serious fixes though, we can always go pay another visit to the Barns & Noble, haha. I'm sure Mika would love to see us again. Actually, now that my mind's on the subject, I just remembered that there's a secret fan-only club here in Minas Tirith. I haven't been to it yet, but Narthas has hinted at the fact that it's outfitted with modern stuff of sorts. Once he gives me the directions, I'll be sure to write you promptly and tell you what it's like._

_Oops! At any rate, this damn elf is done eating and wants to get back on the road. He's heading out west for a few days while I go live with Faramir. Sounds crazy, I know, but I'll fill you in later._

_LUV U 4EVA GRL,  
-Lo-Lo"_

She took the paper, folded it into fours, and stuffed it into the small envelope. Almost prepared to lick the glue on the back to seal it, Lauren was surprised to find there was no such strip. Reaching into her pack, she drew out the yellow sealing wax, held it up to the single candle that adorned their table, and let it drip onto the back of the envelope.

"Forgotten to buy a seal, I deem?" the elf asked when she saw her hesitate for a moment, wondering what to do with the small puddle of wax.

"Well, damn," she muttered, and then reached out and smooshed the wax with the pad of her thumb. "There. As individual a seal as any, eh?"

Narthas took the envelope from her and studied the back before setting it down again. "I can't think up anything more individual than a fingerprint. Here. I'll mail that for you." He took it again, then handed it back to her. "It would help if the messenger knew who the recipient was."

"Oh, right." She took back the paper and scrawled on the front:

_N.C.M.  
Mirkwood; Tharanduil's Realm_

"Much better," he nodded. "Now let's go."

They paid their bill, and the elf paid Denlan for their night as well. The two chatted for a minute before Narthas excused them both, announcing that he was in a bit of a rush. They fetched their horses, saddled up, and led the beasts by the reigns to the front gate before mounting.

"All right, little one," he addressed her in the proper code seeing as how there were many people still within earshot at they rode away from the city. "Your path will take you south from here. Mine lies northward, in the wood as you know. To follow me and then turn southward again would be a foolish waste of time, so here we do part ways."

"And of my new companion?"

"I shall send him for you."

They were riding now at a slow walk down the dirt road through the townsteads outside the city, but still within the walls of the Rammas. The people were fewer the farther from the outer wall they were, and so their conversation continued on in a far less cumbersome speech- at least for Lauren.

"Kay, so I'm going to where Faramir lives," she confirmed. "Which is in Ithilien?"

"Correct."

"And where in Ithilien is he?"

"He lives on the rise of Emyn Arnen, not 20 miles from here. Technically, he's southeast, so he's across the river as well."

"Well, duh. The river is the border of Ithilien, north and south."

Narthas chuckled. "You are smarter than you look. Do you still have your map that they gave you?"

Lauren turned around in her saddle as far as she could to rummage through the bags. "Here it is," she said, holding up the worn and partially-crumpled pamphlet. Narthas took it from her and looked it over.

"You know? This is the first time I've gotten hold of one of these," he said, eyes passing over the page of rules. "Hmm… mass produced, too, it seems," he mumbled, looking over the pages printed with ink. "Nothing of a technological nature is permitted to leave the borders of any elf kingdom," he recited. A few more moments of reading, and he turned the page. "Hmm. Did you read this page?" The elf gestured to the heading that read 'Terms and Conditions'.

"Not really, no. In fact, I don't remember even seeing that page."

"Well, it was stuck to another page, so you probably skipped over it without realizing."

"What does it say?" The girl was loth to know.

The elf knitted his brows and narrowed his eyes as he read the small letters covering the paper. "Well," he began. "In the first section here, it says that DERIF retains the right to arrest and imprison any fan with probable cause." A pause. "What? It also says that fans do not retain the right to a fair trial before imprisonment. Hmm…" Another pause. "Fans may also be subject to expulsion from Arda if such doom is agreed upon by the Council."

"What Council?"

Narthas screwed up his face as he thought, eyes going from the words before him to the road ahead and back. At length, he shook his head and let out a curt sigh. "I don't know. I'm supposed to know these kinds of things. Elrond pulled me aside when they were still building the bookstore in preparation for you guys, and told me what was going down.

"He told me that change and strange beginnings were upon Middle-earth that weren't even under the control of the Valar or any force of evil that they could perceive. Children were coming, journeying here from a place far beyond circles of this world to live here in peace."

"Why would he tell you what was going on?"

"Because he had to inform all of the Elves what was going on, even the ones that he doesn't like. What he told me, though, was different from what he told others in one way: at the end he told me not to screw it up." The elf laughed to himself.

Lauren laughed too. "Ah, so you've got a rep, I see, with the older generations."

"Quite honestly, yes, I do! There aren't too many that are older than I am, though. Celeborn, Galadriel, and Cirdan are the only three I can think of at the moment. I've spoken a little with Celeborn and Galadriel, but not with Cirdan. I haven't ever spent much time in those parts. But Elrond… yes, Elrond knows me mostly because of Aragorn and his relationship with the family of Stewards. That, and I lived in Rivendell for a short while. But yes, he knows about me. He's got this idea in his head of my being a sly troublemaker with selfish motives, and who hates the Eldar and all that they stand for."

The girl shrugged and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, all of that's true, isn't it?"

"Oh, screw you," he chuckled, swatting at her. "I may be sly, and I may be a troublemaker, and I may not fully appreciate the Elvish manifesto, but I am most certainly not selfish."

"I suppose not…"

Lauren got a good look at the old elf, sitting tall, but relaxed in his saddle, robed in rich charcoal. His skin wasn't pale like the other elves, but golden with the testament to his life as a transient. Delicate lines were his only sign of aging, gently creasing the skin between his brows and the corners of his mouth. She imagined him as a youth; rich of tone, and fiery. Everything about his character must have been sharp and bright. She imagined his hair being a lighter, ruddy brown, cascading down his shoulders in full locks-- nothing like the rich bronze of his crown now, sheared just past the chin.

"Nar… thas," she absently mumbled. "Nor… thas…"

"What was that?" The voice broke her all-consuming thought.

Lauren took a double-take and blinked. "Oh, uh, nothing," she lied. "I have one question if you don't mind, though."

"Go ahead."

"Does your name mean 'fire-giver', too?"

The elf studied her curiously before answering. "In one translation, yes. Why?"

"No reason, just asking." She shrugged and looked away. "You need to draw me that map, remember? So I know where I'm going?"

"Oh, right, right. Sorry, but I forget trivial things easily," he joked. He flipped through the pamphlet to the back where there were several blank pages reserved for "notes". "Pull over here," the elf said. "And let me borrow your quill and ink. I've got a map to draw up for you."

The girl twisted around in the saddle where they stopped and yanked out a small satchel housing her precious marking implements. The elf smoothed the bound papers down on his knee and with care, began to draw. His lines were confident and clean, and it was obvious that he was skilled with that medium. The Anduin River, Mindolluin, Minas Tirith, the Rammas Echor, Emyn Arnen, and all the roads and towns in between.

"There." He looked at his doodle (beautifully done in Lauren's mind), blowing gently on it to dry the ink. "No legend, but like I said, it's about 20 miles from Minas Tirith as the crow flies." He held the pamphlet out to Lauren, who took it.

After studying it for a brief moment, the girl nodded in approval. "Easy enough to understand. Thanks, man!"

They flashed each other warm smiles, and continued on their way.

The Rammas Echor came upon them. In the daylight, the great wall didn't lose any of its grandeur, instead hued in pale gold and silvery whites rather than the ash and orange of it at night. The town here huddled near the enormous eastern-facing gate, desperately seeking to pull traffic in. There was significantly more people here than the stretch of agrarian road they had just been on for the past 40 minutes, however. The two riders guided their horses out the gate, pausing just outside.

"So this is where we part ways," the elf said.

"Ah, but just for now. How will Hound find me?"

"I shall speak with him of it. Their kind is smart enough, I deem, and with many tricks up their sleeves. He will know what to do, no doubt."

The young ranger nodded. Motioning for Miril to get closer to Narthas's horse, she leaned over and hugged him. "I'm officially on my own now," she said a hushed voice.

He patted her head. "You're a big kid. For everything that I've seen you do so far, this should be nothing."

"True.. I was gutted after all. And besides, I'll see you again in a few days." She inhaled deeply and sat up straight in her saddle again.

The elf laughed lightly. "That you were, and that you will."

"Farewell, Narthas, son of reason! I hope to see you again before the end of days!" The elf looked at her with raised eyebrows, but Lauren saw understanding creep into his mind, and suddenly the end of Middle-earth as they knew it didn't seem like such a farfetched idea after all.

"A greater honor it would be to me," he said. "That I should find myself in the company of such brave a soldier before that time. Farewell, Fealai!"

And just before she could do anything to stop it, the two of them rode off in opposite directions, and for the first time since being in Middle-earth, Lauren was unsure of herself.

* * *

The young ranger rode along at a leisurely pace down southward-winding road. She studied Narthas' precisely-wrought map of that region, trying to espy landmarks in the distance. She had passed Minas Tirith's harbor about an hour before, and had also taken that opportunity to cross the Anduin as bridges farther south were far and few between.

To help pass the time, Lauren started to hum Mozart's "Marriage of Figaro" to herself. After idly going over the same portions several times, however, she made the executive decision to haul ass.

"The hell am I doing taking my time here? Time is something Middle-earth _doesn't_ have at this point. C'mon Miril!"

The steed snorted and broke into a gallop down the road, a cloud of dust in her wake. The heat these days were not so much of an issue as they were when she and Nicole first dropped off in Middle-earth. It was still definitely warm, probably in the high eighties, but not sweltering.

Now, in accordance with her new map, Lauren surmised that she was less than ten miles from Emyn Arnen now, which might translate to another half hour of riding. She lifted her bum off the saddle and bent so low that her face almost touched Miril's mane. "Almost there!" she said to the horse. With that, she ushered her to go faster.

Soon, the road began to move away from the river and head east a bit. She came to the summit of a small rise, and at that top she saw the hills of Emyn Arnen and the town at it's feet. A kind of cold sweat came over her when she realized what exactly she had to do. After only a moment of pause, she continued on, and about 15 minutes later, reached the outskirts of the town.

It was a bustling, happy little place, filled with bustling, happy little people. The market square was nothing compared to the outdoor mall that was Lampwright Street, but the dozen or so vendors selling their fruit and their poultry seemed really quite content about it.

The main square, the center of the town, had a small stone fountain with a tree growing in the middle, attempting to mimic that of the tree and the fountain of the citadel, she thought. Children were prancing around in the knee-deep water as mothers and their babies stood nearby, chatting as they kept an eye on the little ones in the fountain. She felt strange being on horseback, as though it were rude or something, and so she dismounted and walked Miril down the main road of the town in the direction of the hills. She mounted the horse again after passing through the south "gate", and rode on for few more minutes up the road as it wound through a grove of old oak trees. At the top of the hill was a grand old house, comprised of several buildings. The main house was three stories tall in most parts, and at the north most corner was a small tower. What would have been in her time a driveway was paved in gravel, and it circled around again, a shallow stone pool. It was quiet and incredibly peaceful. Dismounting, she gestured for Miril to stay where she was while Lauren approached the front door.

Her heart rate sped up and hands shook a little and she raised her hand. But before she gave herself time for second thoughts, the knuckles of her right hand met with the door in an almost assertive manner. She knocked five times.

A moment passed before she heard someone approach the door and unlatch it. The heavy thing swung open with a deep creak, and there stood just inside a dashing young fellow in a hard leather cuirass with a sword at his side. He sized her up and cocked his eyebrow before addressing her.

"What brings you to the house of Lord Faramir?"

Lauren swallowed hard. She stood up straight and decided that she had almost nothing to lose from this. "I am here on an errand. I wish to speak with your lord if I may."

The young man looked at her again before deciding that her strange demeanor wasn't anything more than eccentricity. Lauren shouted at him in her head: 'Let me in! Let me in, dammit!'

The guard stepped outside, leaving the door ajar. He walked past her with a confident gait and approached her horse. "Let's put her in, first. We can't have beasts like this crowding up the path, can we." With that he took the reigns and led her over to the stables. Lauren followed close behind. "Geran!" the youth shouted out as they approached the open stables. There were about 4 horses in their side of the stalls. "We've got a guest!"

"Right, sir!" a middle-aged man appeared from inside the building, a brush still in hand. He had salt-and-pepper stubble to match his salt-and-pepper hair, and there were bits of straw scattered about his shoulders. "Ah, this is a fine horse indeed, sir." He turned to Lauren. "She yours?"

"Uhm, she was lent to me."

He continued to inspect the steed, paying careful attention to the gear. "I've not seen one like this since the Coronation. Where did you get her, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lauren paled a little. "The stablemaster of Rivendell."

The two men looked at her. "Rivendell..." Geran said, nodding. "I would be keen to hear some of your stories sometime, milady!"

Lauren laughed nervously. "Not today," she said, faking a smile. "I've had a long journey."

"It seems that you have." He took the reigns and led Miril away. "I shall see you again, lady!" And with that, she was left alone with the unnamed young man again. He beckoned her to follow him back into the house.

"Rivendell?" he asked with a smirk as they crossed the gravel path. "I should like to hear your tale as well."

"Well. I must speak with Lord Faramir before any tales get telling."

He chuckled a bit. "Fair enough." They went inside, and he closed the door behind them. "By the way, I am Bergil, the son of Beregond, at your service. Let me tell Lord Faramir that he has a guest." With that , he bowed and left Lauren to entertain herself in the foyer.

Normally the immediate environment would have sufficed to keep her stimulated, but her mind had blown a fuse as soon as the young guard introduced himself.

"Bergil," she muttered dumbly to herself. Her eyes, as she imagined them, would have been as wide as dinner plates, knitted brows cleaving a Grand Canyon in her forehead. Aside from Elrond and Glorfindel, Bergil was the first canonical character she had interacted with. But why was she so much more shocked at seeing him than the two elves? She didn't entirely know, but it might have had something to do with all of the psychological changes she'd undergone since first falling into Middle-earth.

Lauren paced around in anxious circles for what seemed like too long before Bergil came back.

"Milady?' The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and she was startled out of her empty thoughts.

"Ha, oh- yes hi," she stumbled. The young man shot a look at her before sighing.

"Right this way."

The girl composed herself and followed him down the hall. They rounded a corner and headed up a flight of stairs, where they continued down another hall. Bergil stopped in front of a nondescript door and knocked.

"Come in Bergil," the voice inside called.

It took every ounce of self-control Lauren had not to have a seizure. The young man opened the door, and the two of them were ushered inside.

The room was spacious despite the walls being lined with bookshelves. Several large windows, flung open to circulate air, flooded the room with light. On a far wall was a fireplace long since used. But the thing that Lauren found to be most interesting was in fact a single man sitting behind a single table littered with papers, books, and scrolls. The man in front of her looked much more like Viggo than David, much to her surprise. His hair was black, not the caramel brown crown featured in the movie, and his eyes were a soft gray, like charcoal. He rose from his seat and reached over the table to shake Lauren's hand, which she reciprocated.

"Good afternoon, little lady," he said. Lauren shuddered with anxious excitement. "What can I do for you?"

She swallowed. "I..." she began, already stumbling over her words. "I've been sent here to ask for lodging under your roof."

The lord of the house raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Oh? And who would have sent you for such a thing?"

Lauren paused. "An old friend of yours, Lord. W-would you happen to remember a certain Narthas Randomie?"

The smile was gone from Faramir's face and his eyes widened. He fell back into his chair and studied the desk before him before looking up again. "Bergil, leave us be for a while."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you."

Lauren heard the door being quietly shut behind her. Faramir beckoned for her to sit down, and she did.

"How is it that you know Narthas? You are not of Elf-kind, nor do you seem to be from these regions." After a moment, he leaned in over his desk, hands clasped together. "What is your name?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. She couldn't pull the 'Narthas' niece' thing now that he knew she wasn't elvish. Should she still give him her latest alias? _Think up something fast, you fucking idiot. _Why the hell did everyone in Tolkien's universe have to be either black-haired blond? He must've had something against brunettes.

"I am Laurelin of Amroth, Lord. My... my father knew the elf, and so when he was slain in the war, Narthas took me in as his own. He sent me to you, thinking perhaps you could provide me with room and board."

She knew there were many, many holes in that story. For one, Narthas was equally as close to the Princes of Amroth as he was with the family of the Stewart. Why he would have sent her all way to Ithilien instead of just keeping her closer to him in Amroth was not something that Faramir would overlook so easily. Or why he sent her away to begin with was another matter.

"There are many who lost their families in the latter years of that Second Age," he sighed. "And I am sorry for your loss."

Suddenly Lauren felt like a piece of shit making up a story like that. With that last sentence, she was reminded of _his_ loss. He lost EVERYONE. His parents, and perhaps the most important person in his life: Boromir. Lauren wanted to curl up and die for dredging up his past.

"Lord, I... I am so s--" She was cut off when he held up his hand, slowly shaking his head.

"It is in the past, milady. We look to the future now, and be glad that there are still friendships." At this he rose and walked around the table to stand next to her. "I deem that you have seen terrific things in your day, Laurelin. And if you are a friend of Narthas, then you are a friend of mine also."

"Am I to stay, then?" she asked eagerly.

"Aye. But under some condition. I would like to send a message to Narthas to ask for his mind on this, and also: if you are to stay in this house, your room and board will not be free." His tone had taken a parental tone and he looked down at her accordingly. "You are to work for your lodging whilst you are here."

"Oh, of course my Lord. A thousand thanks," she said, smiling. "And a thousand more."

"We shall get you started in a few days," he said, ushering her back towards the door, then opened it. "Bergil will show you to your room here."

Lauren turned around. "Thank you so much, Lord Faramir. I am in your debt."

He laughed, and smiled at her. "That you are. But worry not, arrangements will be made to pay that debt."

She laughed too. "Of course, Lord."

"And I should also like to hear about your horse." With that, he closed the door to his study.

"Come with me, miss." Bergil motioned for her to follow. She did as she was told. The two of them ended up doing a short tour of the house before coming across the guest wing. She did a victory dance in her head when the guy opened the door of a small room on the ground floor, told her the lavatory was down the hall, and left to fetch her saddlebags.

The room was a good size. Maybe twelve by ten feet, with a full sized bed in the middle, a vanity in the corner, and lots of windows on one wall. Off to the side was a tiny washroom, almost a closet. She checked the windows; they opened, and the ground was right there. Getting in and out without warranting attention? Easy mode. She suspected that her view looked out to the east, and a few hundred yards away there was an orchard of sorts spanning several square acres.

Lauren turned from the window and leaned against the wall as she began to think. Which Autobot would be meeting her? How would he get here? When? How was she to meet him? There was no way that they could communicate prior to meeting... it would almost have to be by coincidence. Maybe she should leave him some clues as to where on the property she was...

"Here are your things, Laurelin." Lauren jumped as Bergil broke her train of thought.

"Oh, yes, thank you." She rushed over to where he put the bags on the bed, picked them up, and set them on the vanity. She desperately hoped that no one had looked inside.

"Supper is at sundown in the hall." He bowed and turned to take his leave, but Lauren stopped him.

"Bergil," she said. He turned around. "Where is Beregond?"

The young man knitted his brows, probably wondering how this girl knew his father. "He is in town and should be returning tonight."

"I see. Thank you, Bergil."

"My pleasure, milady." He left, and Lauren set to work figuring out how exactly she was going to rendezvous with a robot that night.

* * *

Lauren't couldn't really stand being inside. She was getting a bit restless and anxious, and so decided to explore the property while waiting for a giant animal to show up. 

The young ranger exited the way she came in, first to count how many buildings there were, and eventually came to a grand total of four: the main house, the stables, the barn, and kitchen. (She pondered that last one until she remembered something about kitchens in that period being separate from the house because fires happened quite often while cooking, which she found out through a Ken Follett book.)

She idly walked about the property for a while, visited the horses out in the pasture and Miril as well, and took a nice long walk through the orchards. All the while, she kept an eye and ear out for signs of an arrival.

She found out that the orchards contained apple, olive, pear, and walnut trees. ("Bleh," she said to the walnut trees.) It was late afternoon, but most probably considered evening to most by the time she got to inspecting the trees. She walked down the silent rows in a tense tranquility with little more than the wind through the leaves and a bird here and there to fill the air. The granite-based soil crunched beneath her feet. The sun warmed her backside. And indeed, when all the little pieces were put together, even considering the hilly terrain and distant mountains, it felt like home. And despite her nervous, watchful eye, Lauren was no longer in Middle-earth, but back in Southern California, in her backyard as it pressed up against the feet of the San Gabriel mountains.

She walked among the trees, lost in their monotonous repetition (and she was also rather far from the house, now), and followed the row as it curved over a small and gentle hill. At the top there was a sparse patch of grass, and so she took a sit. With her back against the trunk of a rather large apple tree, she sighed and gazed northward. She could see Mindolluin clearly, but the white city was barely a smudge on the horizon. The Anduin, as it curves westward around Minas Tirith, seemed to her like a black smear, long and elegant. Down and off to the left she could make out the town at the foot of the hill.

Lauren was there for quite some time, and before she knew it, dusk was upon her. There was no sign of a giant robot to be seen, which made her a little nervous. Like... wouldn't a freakin'... robot that size be able to cover ground faster than she could? Or at least on par with a running horse? Maybe he got lost. Navigating unfamiliar territory, even if he _did_ have on-board navigational systems, would be a tricky thing, right? She stood up, brushing off her butt, and headed back in the direction of the house. Dinner was at sundown, so she needed to get going. Lauren, technically being undead, wasn't hungry, but that didn't mean she couldn't put away a good plate of food, and that also didn't mean she could skimp out on every meal. People would start thinking she was weirder than she already was if she never ate.

She made it back to the house just short of ten minutes later, and still no trace of an Autobot. She trudged into the house, worry gnawing at her stomach. The halls were dark, lit by candles and sconces on the walls. Every large room housed a hearth, alive and well, to light the space. She meandered down the main corridor, following it to the very end to reach the dining hall. The Lord was seated already, and so too was Bergil next to another man who she assumed to be Beregond, as well as the stablemaster, and two other people. However, there was another new face at the table, and she sat next to Faramir. She was long and elegant, though didn't seem to lack strength of her own right. Her hair was a bright gold, braided down her back, and upon her brow was a simple circlet. Beside her and another, older woman, was a young boy of about four. Lauren stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape as she looked on the family of the Steward of Gondor. There they all were: Faramir, Eowyn, and their son, who could have been none other than Elboron. (How she remembered that obscure name, she would never know.)

"Surely you will not stand in the door for the remainder of the meal, Laurelin?" she was surprised to hear Eowyn speak to her.

"Oh, I.." she stammered. Lauren bowed clumsily and headed for the nearest chair at the table, a nervous smile on her face. Bergil laughed.

"I do not know how the Princes of Amroth would have it, but the etiquette of this estate is not so austere," Beregond said. His voice was rich, weathered, and extremely kind. "And also it would do you well to not mind my son. He is not so used to guests of your persuasion." Bergil shot a look at his father and turned beet red.

Lauren just giggled in return, slightly more at ease. It didn't help much that she was worrying over her rendezvous still. The combination of this dinner and concerns about the rendezvous was making her rather uneasy, to say the least.

"Come," Faramir said, smiling. "Enough with this idle talk. Let us eat!" The food, already on the table, began to get torn apart by hungry hands.

Lauren gazed longingly at it, as though she weren't entitled to any. With another encouragement, she began to pick at the meal. Beregond, who sat directly adjacent, served her a good portion of pork., setting it on her pewter plate. She grabbed a few slices of apple, cheese, and bread, wondering for only a moment about the beverage situation when a serving woman came around to fill her cup with wine.

Wine.

Now, had Lauren been the rebellious and hedonistic type, she'd have gotten tattoos already, and they probably would have been two black "X"s inked in the backs of her hands. Yes, this late teenager was straightedge, but unfortunately in this world, such a thing didn't exist. She imagined that it would be horribly impolite to decline the offering, seeing as the young boy was the only one at the table drinking a non-alcoholic beverage: milk.

But besides the fact that she didn't approve of alcohol, Lauren didn't care much for the taste anyway.

"So!" said Faramir. "I desire to hear more of you, Laurelin of Amroth." His tone was warm and welcoming, but it still retained that softness she imagined that his brother didn't often have. When she was reminded of Boromir, though, she began to wonder what he might have looked like...

"Yes, lady. Tell us how a steed of Rivendell came into your possession," Bergil chimed in.

Lauren swallowed hard. She needed a moment, but unfortunately there were no Snickers bars to be had, so she reached for her wineglass and took a big, long, disgusting gulp that ended in a cough. "I'm afraid I've been sworn to secrecy," she said at length. Not only was the excuse the lamest that anyone could have ever possibly thought up, it was also true.

Everyone looked at her strangely until Eowyn burst forth in light laughter. "You cannot be serious?" She smiled.

The girl laughed aloud as well, though it was a nervous laugh. The kind just a little too loud and a little too long to be convincing, but she still hoped no one could see through her. "That was a lie, I'm afraid," she began, sighing for dramatic and comedic effect. "How I truly acquired the horse was not as glamorous as you might have thought... Narthas bought her from an elf in Rivendell on one of his journeys to serve as a beast of burden. He lent her to me several weeks ago when we came to Minas Tirith, and he does want her back sometime in the foreseeable future."

Everyone laughed, much to Lauren's relief.

"What a shame," Beregond said. "Perhaps it was best that you left us to conjure up some elaborate tale ourselves!"

She smiled. "You did insist, however."

"That we did."

Dinner after that went smoothly. They all engaged in jokes and idle chatter, and despite being welcomed into the family, she still felt estranged for obvious reasons. And her apprehension about the Autobots only worsened as the night drew on.

After the meal, Lauren retreated to her room. After pacing for a short while, she resolved to collapsing on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering what she should do in the off chance that something happened to either Narthas or the Autobots since she left the city. She was vaguely aware of a small itch on her stomach, and so did as any person would do, and scratched it. Her fingers caught on some extremely alien shapes, and she looked down to see the awful line of stitches holding her gut together. How she forgot about that was beyond her. If anyone saw those, there would be MANY more questions for her to answer.

Lauren wasn't entirely aware of when she dropped off, but she did wake up in the middle of the night, drool on the pillow, and day clothes making uncomfortable creases on her sides. She changed into a shift and went back to bed. However, just as she was about to collapse again, she looked out the window to see what she could see. It was almost a full moon, and the landscape was just barely illuminated by the dull glow. After a few moments of staring, a pair of flashing lights caught her attention in the sky before disappearing out of her field of vision. Her heart jumped. Was that an enemy spacecraft, or were they more allies? Lauren strained to espy more, but the few minutes she tried yielded nothing. She retreated back to bed in defeat, and wondered where Narthas was...

There was a tapping on the window.

Lauren was not entirely aware of it, and so in a mindless effort to make it go away, she turned over. Unfortunately, that didn't help. The tapping grew louder, and the girl groaned as she almost painfully opened her eyes to find herself in a dark room still. Was it morning yet? She looked to the window, eyes squinting from fatigue, and saw a hulking silhouette blocking the light. The cogs turned in her head, and suddenly she leapt out of bed and darted to the window. Lauren unlatched one pane and pushed it outward.

"Hound! Jesus Christ, thank god you made it! I was getting really worried."

"I got into a bit of a fight last night," he whispered. "Sorry for the delay."

"You did? With who? What happened?"

"Fortunately, it wasn't one of those psychic things in black. Simple Decepticon scout: deactivated him without too much trouble... only thing is, I can't transform now. Something's jammed in my left side here."

"Goddamnit," she muttered under her breath. "You can't be running around like that. If even _one _person sees you, it's all over. Soldiers everywhere. And even though they're highly skilled in what they do, it would be a massacre when they went up against Sith and Decepticons." She wasn't angry with him, just a little scared. "I'll be out in a few minutes; let me get changed."

She watched him as he glanced around and proceeded to make his stealthy way over to the first line of trees in the orchard.

Lauren got dressed in an extra set of clothes, fastened the sword-belt around her, slipped her boots on, and grabbed a bottle of IBC root beer from her bag. The CD player caught her attention for only a moment before she closed the bag tightly and climbed out the window. About a minute of jogging brought her back to Hound who was crouched behind a large, sagging olive tree.

"Alright, where is it?"

The robot lowered himself to the ground even further so Lauren could reach the spot he was pointing to: under his arm on the left side. "See what you can see."

He lifted his arm up and Lauren got up close, trying to figure out what was what. All the mechanical pieces that made him up were extremely complicated, and she had a hard time discerning anything from anything else at first. But a few moments of studying the pieces, and she was able to find the root of the problem.

"You've got a rock lodged in there," she said, standing up straight again. "Pretty good size."

Hound looked at her with his bright blue optics. "Can you get it?"

"Will it hurt?"

He shook his head. "Shouldn't."

"I'll give it a try. Just don't move or you'll crush my hand." She stepped up to his side again, and reached in. Hound was deathly still. The girl maneuvered around all sorts of metal bits, tubes, and wires until she was able to grasp the rock. She gave it a good tug, but it seemed to be stuck.

"You got it?" he asked over his shoulder.

"It's in there really good. Lemme see if I can get my other hand in there." With more careful navigation, she was able to reach the stone and hold onto it with both hands. She gathered all her strength and with a considerable cry, she wrenched the thing free and fell backward onto the ground, clutching a stone about seven inches in diameter. She handed it to Hound.

The Autobot studied it for a moment before tossing it away. "Thanks! I really owe you one," he said, smiling and standing up again.

"Alright," she said. "What's the plan now? Where do we go from here?"

"Narthas says he wants you to go the The Underground and find out what you can there. I'm pretty sure that he and Airlock and Gasket started making their way west to investigate the mining operations in the mountains yesterday. And from there we'll determine if I need to call for reinforcements or not."

"Yeah... yeah." Lauren nodded and began to pace. "That's good. But what about Fen? Did Narthas say anything specifically about Fen."

"I think he mentioned him getting allies from his neck of the woods."

"Kay, that's good. If we're lucky, maybe we can get some Jedi too. That will definitely help with the Sith problem."

"What are Jedi?"

"They're the non-evil versions of Sith."

"Oh! Great. We need some of those..."

Suddenly she heard Bergil. "Laurelin!" he was calling as he walked away from the house and toward the orchard.

"FUCK," she hissed. "Hound. You gotta hide."

The Autobot glanced around. "Where!?"

"I don't know! Just, go! You have to go!" She watched him transform into his giant cougar form and he darted off through the trees.

"Laurelin!" Bergil broke into a sprint and drew his sword the instant he spotted Hound. Lauren just stood there, heart racing, not quite sure what to do. The young man ran over to her. "Are you alright? Did it attack you?" He looked over her shoulder in the direction where he last saw the beast. "Tell me you are uninjured."

"I'm fine, I'm fine. As soon as he saw me, he ran the other way. What did you come to tell me?"

Bergil studied her with his slate gray eyes before taking a step back. "I was sent to warn you that giant mountain lion had been seen yesterday near town. And also that Lord Faramir wishes to speak to you about your duties as a servant in his house."

She groaned inwardly. She didn't want to do that. There was no time. She had to get back to Minas Tirith ASAP!

"Aye," she sighed, and proceeded to follow him back to the house.

* * *

"How are you with children?" Eowyn asked. 

Lauren was sitting in Faramir's study for her meeting with the Lord and Lady. Well, it was more of an interview.

"I love children," she answered truthfully. "And they generally love me in turn. If you're wanting me to school Elboron, then that I am not so sure about, but I am more than skilled in keeping him happy and entertained."

"Wonderful," Eowyn smiled. "The other servants are often busy enough as it is, and Bergil has little of a nuturing mind, I'm afraid. Good, tell us more."

"Well... I can cook, though you might not want me to clean so much, as I'm a little OCD.."

"OCD?"

Lauren mentally kicked herself. "Let us say that when I start to clean, I can spend an entire day on a single room. But... I can draw and build some things, though I do not know how those things might serve you in a useful manner."

"It all counts," encouraged Faramir.

"I think," Eowyn began. "That your duties will begin with Elboron."

Lauren nodded her head. "That I can do," she said. She began to think about exactly how she was going to babysit the little bugger in between saving the world and all that and thought that perhaps getting fired and kicked out was not as horrible of a consequence as the civilizations of Middle-earth getting annihilated. But for now, the situation would have to suffice.

"Good," she said. "You can start when Faramir and I leave for Osgiliath tomorrow. We shall be gone for three days. Is that all right with you, Laurelin?"

She nodded again. "Just wonderful."


	15. On Secret Agendas

"HOUND!" Lauren shouted at the top of her lungs. Quite honestly, they needed to figure out a better way to meet up. This was ridiculous. "HOUND!" she called out at an impossibly louder volume than before. Seeing that her efforts yielded nothing, she decided to spare her throat the trouble and stop.

By then, she was almost to the far eastern end of the orchard, and probably to the edge of the property. Looking back, Lauren saw that the house was a good half mile away.

"Psst!" she heard, and jumped at the sound. "Hey!"

Off to her right and at the edge of the trees, some rocks broke out of the soil as the land sloped downward, creating a shallow gully. And in it knelt an Autobot.

Lauren stood at the edge and looked down at him before he rose up to his full height, putting him at eye level with Lauren. "You didn't hear me?" she said, voice hoarse from the shouting. "I've been looking for you since you ran off yesterday."

"I did. Heard you all 8 times," Hound said in a voice that sounded much like that of a male human's that was heavily messed with in an audio editing program. "I didn't want to come out in case that kid would see me, though. He seems to have an awfully inflated sense of self-importance?"

Lauren made to sit down on the rocks next to where Hound stood. "From the few days that I've known him, it does seem that way. Oh well... his dad's nice enough, and so are the rest of them," she sighed. "And as for you, well-" she laughed here- "Maybe it was good that you didn't come out."

"See?" he said and grinned in an odd, robotic way. "I'm right more often than people give me credit for. Oh, and Narthas wants me to tell you that they just left to investigate Lebennin."

"Wait, what? How did you get in contact with Narthas?" she said, brows furrowed in confusion.

Hound laughed. "Radio, of course. We just have to be very careful when and how we use it, though, because Decepticons could be eavesdropping."

The girl rubbed her chin and crossed her legs at the knee. "Good point." She suddenly lit up with a thought, gesturing appropriately. "Wait, if you can send and receive radio signals, that means you have access to a whole spectrum of frequencies, right?" Hound nodded and cast her a curious look. "And the baddies must be communicating somehow, too, right? And there is only a limited amount of broadcast-able radio frequencies available because that's just how physics works, which means that you should be able to tap into Decepticon/Sith communications!"

Hound rested a metal, fully articulating hand on his hip and stroked his chin as though he had a metal, fully articulating beard. "Yes, I have tried here and there, but for some reason I haven't been able to pick up a single thing at all. Either they're using short-wave radio frequencies that are too weak to travel this far, or they've got some other advanced comm systems that we don't know anything about."

"And that would be bad."

"And it would be bad."

"Unfortunately, that's probably the case, cause frankly, the entire situation is bad."

"Well, I wouldn't put short waves past 'em," said the Autobot, resting his hands on his waist and looking around. "and if there's one good thing that I can think of, it's that I got a chance to get off Cybertron. You've gotta admit, this planet's kind of pretty."

Lauren paused for a moment before speaking. "Now, I don't understand that," she said, and shifted her sitting position. "How is it that a robot like yourself, with absolutely no trace of any biological make-up whatsoever, can appreciate the beauty of the natural world just like any other carbon-based sentient organism?"

Hound looked her square in the eye. "Just in the same way that a 'carbon-based sentient organism' is able to appreciate the beauty of a mechanical or electronic thing."

She nodded slowly. "Touche," Lauren said, before bursting into laughter. "I've had an awful habit of naming my old computers, so I guess that only proves your point more."

"Now that's just a little crazy," he said, smiling. "Personal computers from your home world aren't even programed to have a personality!"

Lauren stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah well, if I pretend that when I'm not around, my laptop transforms into a small, autonomous robotic organism, then that makes it all the easier, doesn't it."

"Just when I think I understand you humans, you throw in a monkey wrench." Hound threw his arms up in defeat.

The girl laughed. "Enough talk about being crazy for now, though. I came to let you know that I've got some errands to run in the city, and I'm going to be gone until the evening when I've got to take care of Elboron. You should stay here."

He nodded. "Come meet me here when you come back," said Hound. "Wanna make sure nothing happened to you on the way."

"Deal." She shot him a thumbs up. "If something happens, though I don't know why anything would, uhm, radio the others just to let them know what's going on, and come look for me. I'll give you permission to come out of hiding," she grinned. "But only if I don't find you by sundown. Got it?"

"Affirmative." He saluted her.

"Oh, and one more thing before I forget. Did Narthas, by any chance, leave with you directions so I know how to get to the Underground?"

"Ah! Yes he did. The elf said that this place was on the fifth level of the city, on the south-face. It... hugs up against the wall of the sixth level-"

"That is so vague it's not even funny. That city is like, a half mile in diameter."

"Hey, did I say I was done?" Lauren rolled her eyes with a smile and let him continue. "He said that the building is marked by three Cyprus trees, a red door, and a banner with a symbol you will recognize as being completely displaced."

She nodded, and hoped to the Valar that she could remember all of that. "What about the passwords?"

"He says they're relatively easy. Just names of people. Elendil, Anarion, Isildur, and Ostoher are all you need to know."

"Oh, yeah that is easy. I know who the first three are already."

"Good, good. Now get going or else you might not be back in time and I'll have to go look for you."

"Fine, fine."And with that, she climbed back over the rocks, to jog back to the house.

--

"Bergil!" she called out, though not as loud as she had done for her robotic companion, and it only took one shout to get his attention.

She heard him head down the stairs, and he appeared around the corner as she waited for him in the foyer. "Early riser?" he asked.

"Only today," she replied. "Look, I must go back to the city today for errands. I should be back before sundown."

He crossed his arms over his chest and ran his tongue over his teeth. "I suppose that might be alright," he said with a sigh. "The Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn will be departing for Osgiliath this afternoon, however. You'd best return as soon as you may, because of your duty to Elboron."

"Yes, yes, I know. But these errands are well high in importance," she snapped, then added: "For me."

"Very well. I'll inform them both."

"Thanks," she said, and was headed for the door, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Just one more thing," he said, still holding onto her arm. She looked at him, and his brows were knitted in a display of suspicion. "There was a strange sound coming from your room last night. I walked past your door on my way to the washroom, and heard it. Would you care to tell me what it was?"

Dread fell through her, and her heartbeat hastened considerably. However, her terror must have been idiotically apparent, because his grip tightened.

"It sounded much like a waterfall, though quite some distance away, and mingled with a strange rhythm."

So Bergil had heard her listening to her CD player late last night. She'd put it on at some ungodly hour to try and pass the time, and some time during that 78 minutes of music, Bergil had walked past her room to take a piss. And heard it. After a long silence, she decided to take the offensive route as playing defense could get her fucked over pretty quickly if she didn't play her cards right.

She shook his grip from her arm and shot him an offended look. "Do not blame me for your wild imagination, _sir_," she spat. "I know you have not taken well to me, but your belligerence will earn you nothing but an enemy. And I have no qualms about playing such a role. Now if you excuse me, I have things I must tend to."

With that, Lauren stepped out of the house and walked over to the stables before he had any chance to retort. Once there, and in the relative privacy of the building, she paused to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, her breathing shallow, and her hands were shaking. He'd almost found her out.

It took a few minutes to compose herself, but she was soon saddling up her horse, who was eager to be free from the confines of her stall. Lauren was equally eager to be free from the confines of the house. And so in no time at all, she was heading down the hill towards the town of Emyn Arnen. However, instead of passing through it, she cut off the road and into the wilderness of Ithilien, still making her way northward. Open land passed beneath Miril's feet at an alarming rate, and in about an hour, they'd reached the outskirts of Minas Tirith's port district, Harlond. The river here was extremely wide, at least 200 feet across, and deep enough for ships of considerable size. It was there that she crossed the bridge and rode through the gate of the Rammas Echor.

It felt good to be back in the city once again for some reason. It felt familiar, though Peter Jackson's vision did it absolutely no justice at all (not to mention he completely left out all and any areas surrounding the tower itself), and it felt right, even though she'd only spent two nights there.

The market square was particularly busy that morning. From the looks of it, she could safely assume that it was a farmer's market or swap meet of sorts, whatever the Middle-earth equivalent to that sort of thing was.

"Elendil, Anarion, Isildur, Ostoher..." she chanted quietly to herself as she dismounted her horse. "Elendil, Anarion, Isildur, Ostoher..."

The Golden Thread was open, and she really hoped her clothes were about done. She pushed open the door, the bell jingled, and she was welcomed back in by the same Ellárin as before. The woman sailed over to her. "Welcome back, friend," was the happy greeting. "I am very proud to say that your riding garb was finished not an hour ago. That is, of course, if it meets your standatds."

Lauren was guided to the back, where a stack of very neatly folded clothing sat on a table, alongside a few others. Pieces of paper with names written on them were pinned to the top of each stack. Ellárin took the top of Lauren's clothes and held it up to her for inspection. The girl nodded in approval before the next garment, and the process was repeated.

"Beautiful," she mumbled. "This is perfect! Thank you."

"If that is all, then you may take your leave if you wish."

She thought for a moment. "Actually, there is one more thing I would have of you."

"Oh?"

"On the yoke... I would ask that you embellish it with the symbol of a fountain."

"A fountain, you say?" The woman looked at her, thinking. "Yes, it can be done."

Lauren smiled. "Oh, good. What if I return in a few hours?"

"Oh, of course. That would be simple. Do you have an image you would like for me to copy?"

"I could draw it for you. Do you have parchment on hand?"

Ellárin nodded and scuttled over to the back room. She reappeared a moment later with a scrap of paper and a piece of charcoal. Lauren took the implements and began to draw an incredibly stylized fountain motif, like the one she always imagined adorning the host of the Fountain of Gondolin. In all honesty, she was doing it more for Narthas than herself.

"There."

"Oh, of course. Simple. I shall have this sent to the tanner right away."

"Thank you, Ellárin." The two of them bowed to each other and Lauren was out the door again, this time to head up the tiers of the massive city, slowly, one at a time. Elendil, Anarion, Isildur... Ostoher...

She rode for a few minutes before reaching the first gate. She approached it carefully, though it didn't, upon a technical assessment, look intimidating at all. In fact, the gate itself was flung wide open. She didn't completely understand why the gates had passwords, and in fact it seemed a little elitist for one of the kings to have built such things. What if a commoner wished to speak with someone in the Citadel, but didn't know the passwords? Well, she didn't exactly know who knew them and who didn't, but it still seemed like a strange measure for... privacy? Hell, she didn't know.

"Good day, milady," a guard who had been casually conversing with two others beside the gate looked up at her as she approached. "Do not ask me why such traditions born out of caution are still in place during these happy days, but I must inquire still: do you know the password?"

Lauren grew hot in the face, hoping she didn't look stupid. "Elendil, sir, king of old."

He grinned warmly and nodded his head, gesturing for her to continue. "Now you may be on your way."

She just smiled back and rode on through the stone archway. She repeated the process thrice more, and Narthas was right: it did take her about half an hour to get to the fifth level. It was here that she dismounted Miril. The streets were far emptier than they were down below. The tiers were narrower too, and the houses were larger. Storefronts were few and far between here, and she wondered how in the hell she was going to find this Underground cafe.

Before Lauren knew it, she was facing south. Squeezing into an alley between two houses, she peered over the wall and down onto the city below. The first tier was about 900 feet below (ninety stories), and even farther than that was Harlond and the River. She saw the rise of Emyn Arnen in the distance, a little bald zit among the green of Ithilien. She sighed and turned away from the view.

"C'mon," she muttered to the horse. "We've got to find this place."

Three Cyprus trees in a row, a red door... Lauren looked at each building she passed very carefully, and she was eternally grateful to the powers-that-be that her meandering didn't illicit much in the way of stares from the few passerby on the street. Some time went by, and the girl had assessed quite a few homes. Many of them had Cyprus trees in the gardens, towering over whatever wall or gate that enclosed the area, and a few of them had red doors. But so far she had seen no banner emblazoned with a recognizably displaced symbol. The painstaking search went on for another ten minutes or so before something caught her eye; it was a white standard hanging from a pole on a very unassuming structure. The building had no yard, and it was a single story tall. The door, set in a strange and slightly unwelcoming part of the facade on the side, was painted a dull red. The standard, however, caused small little tremors of excitement to shoot through her brain. The piece of fabric was a dirty white, and tapered at the very bottom. Right in the middle of this pale field, however, was the symbol of the Rebel Alliance.

The circular crest, simple as it was, spoke volumes to her. If this was secretly a fan base (no pun intended) then Fen did an incredible job at making it look nondescript. She stood there for a few minutes, thinking, when the door opened a crack before swinging wide open. Two young men stepped out, shutting the door quickly behind them. They stopped when they saw her. Lauren laughed.

"It's alright, I'm a fan too."

A visible wave of relief poured over them. "Sorry," apologized the older of the two. He must have been in his early twenties, and the other closer to her age. She could clearly see that they were both hardcore geeks in a previous life. The older one was tall and lanky, with pale skin and little chin to be had. "We just gotta be cautious, you know? We don't want DERIF on our backs. And we don't want DERIF to find out about this place either."

She nodded in vigorous agreement. "Oh, yeah, of course. So hey, I've never been here before. Is there anything I need to know? What's the drill." She decided to close the distance between them so that they didn't have to talk so conspicuously.

"Oh, cool. It's a really sick setup AF's got. But like, just go to the back, where Sarah is, and just say you're a fan, and she'll let you in. It's not that complicated."

Lauren grinned. "Okay, sweet. I'm Lauren by the way, or Fealai." She awkwardly put out her hand.

The older of the two shook it. "Brian, or Brandir," he said.

The other one took her hand. "Travis, or Torin."

"Well, nice meeting you. I've got to get going, though: errands to run after this. Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Haha, sure. Seeya later, Lauren!" With that, the two sauntered off down the street. Lauren then turned to the task at hand. She tied off Miril to a pole, walked over to the red door, opened it, and peered inside.

The interior of the building was dark. Not completely, as there was still some light sifting through the dirty windows, but it was darker than it was outside. The space was filled with unassuming crates and barrels stacked up. There was a table off in the corner, where a group of girls sat, chatting loudly. So THIS was where all the fans were. Lauren walked past them, weaving through the obstacle of crates and barrels until she came to a door on the far end of the large room. She opened it, finding herself in a considerably smaller space. There were a few more boxes piled in the corner, but other than that, it was nearly empty. On the floor there was a great rug, woven with images of valiant knights fighting men on horseback. She recognized the mounted warriors as Easterlings, and it occurred to her that it was illustrating a battle against the Wainriders.

"Hello?" Lauren snapped back into reality when a young woman sitting in a chair addressed her. There was a PSP in her hands.

"Oh, right, sorry. Can I go in?"

Sarah stood up. "Sure thing." She walked over to the edge of the rug and lifted up a corner, revealing a trap door. She gave a mighty pull on the metal ring, and the thing creaked open. Lauren peered down into the blackness, not quite sure if she wanted to see the club so badly anymore. Sarah must have noticed her hesitation. "Look, there's light after the first door."

Lauren swallowed her fear with a nod, and descended down the steep steps into the dark. As soon as she stood on the ground again, Sarah shut the trap door above her head, leaving her in complete darkness. Her eyes went wide as they strained to see something other than the dark, swirling colors that infiltrate your eyes when they're unable to catch any sign of light. She took a few uneasy steps forward, which caused her to collide with a solid surface. A door? She groped around for a handle. Upon finding a recessed handle on the far left side, she discovered that it was a sliding door. Lauren pushed it off to the right, and to her great relief, she was greeted by the steady glow of florescent lighting. Electricity!

She closed the door behind her, and noticed that the walls were soft and textured. Sound baffles? Well, that would make sense, seeing as it WAS a club, therefore loud music on occasion was a must-have. She pushed aside the second door.

Quite frankly, Lauren nearly shit herself.

The club was extremely spacious, and outfitted with all the amenities of a modern venue. The room, as far as she could tell, was elliptical in shape; the floor, in the center, sunk down several feet in tiers and pressed up against a small stage at the far end. The ceiling, dotted with brilliant specks of recessed lighting, was a pitch black void, hiding silent AC vents that cooled the entire space. Lauren took a few steps in, still marveling at the place, so modern that she would have forgotten that she was in Middle-earth at all had people not been walking around in the appropriate garb. How in the hell did this guy pull this off? Thirty-some feet from end to end, with a max capacity upwards of 500 people or so. The stage was outfitted with all sorts of music, DJ, and lighting equipment, telling her that whoever this Fen was, he knew quite a bit about performing. The near end of the giant ellipse housed a bar and lounge area, where a majority of the fans were hanging out.

Lauren made her way over to the bar, taking curious notice of a door behind the counter. Some guy was manning the bar; he looked up from his book as she approached.

"Well here's a new face," he said, getting up from his stool.

The girl smiled and sat down. "I'm guessing the Minas Tirith fanbase is a pretty tight-knit community, right?"

He chuckled. "Yep," he said. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, just for a few days. Got in about a month ago."

"Ah. How was the ride?"

"It was..." she began, pausing for only a moment to remember all that she'd been through. Orcs, Moria, Narthas, fans, giant robots, Sith... She absentmindedly felt the stitches on her stomach."Exciting, to say the least. How long have you been here?"

"A few years. Things have come a long way since the war. The repair of the damage done to the city was finished a few months ago, and Osigilath has been under construction for longer than that. It was still a bit of a mess when I got in." Lauren winced when he mentioned the word 'war', fearing that another might be upon them yet again. "So what's your name?"

"Lauren, Laurelin, or Fealai. Take your pick," she scoffed.

"Lauren," he repeated to himself, nodding his head. "You wouldn't happen to be a 'Fealai of Amroth', would you?"

"Hmm, probably. Why?"

The barkeep reached under the counter and produced a stack of letters. After flipping through them for a moment, he pulled out one and handed it to the young woman. It read: 'To Fealai Randomië of Amroth – to be found in Minas Tirith'. The odds that the letter was meant for someone else were extremely low, so she went to open the envelope. However, just as she was about to tear into the thing, she saw that the back flap looked tampered with, and the wax seal slightly irregular.

"Did you open this?" she asked the barkeep.

He looked at the envelope and shook his head. "Nope. You know, it might have just gotten a little thrashed on its way here. Those fanmail messengers have it rough."

Lauren grinned. "It sounds like they do." With that, she broke the seal and opened the letter.

"_LAUREN!_

_Oh man dude, we got to Mirkwood today. Fuckin'... finally! It took so long, you have no idea. Then again, I'm pretty sure __your trip was longer. Anyways. Hi, how are things going with you? We miss you and Narthas, come back and visit us, etc. etc. _

_It's so weird here. Mori says that the forest still hasn't been completely freed from the shadow of Dol Guldur yet, which explains why, well... why it's pretty dark in many places, and why the underbrush is overgrown. The paths aren't so dangerous anymore, but they still tell us to be careful when going out alone. Of course, I don't plan on leaving anywhere without Mori, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem._

_OH, MAN. I totally forgot! Like, really weird shit was happening on our way here. We left 2 days after you did, I think, but like, yeah. We were seeing some weird stuff. Things Morithil didn't even know much about. Stuff like airplane looking things in the sky at night, or giant footprints in the ground. Keep in mind, too, that we saw these things in the middle of nowhere. COMPLETELY out in the wilderness. We haven't really seen anything in the past few days, though, which is good, but Mori still wants us to be careful. He says that you and Narthas need to be careful too._

_Anyways, write me back and tell me how the big city is._

_From,_

_Nicole"_

Lauren sat there in the barstool and thought. So Nicole and Quinn and Morithil had seen some baddies up north too. Perhaps that was at the beginning of their journey, when the last remnants of those from the Iron Hills mine were making their way south, making absolutely sure that their plan hadn't been discovered yet. That was most likely before the ambush they had on the road to Gondor... perhaps the two Sith were making their way south, where Nicole's group saw them, and then they caught sight of the three protoform Autobots approaching planetary airspace, tracked them, lost them in the mountains, and followed them after she and Narthas had found them...

"Bad news, I take it?" the voice that drifted across the counter snapped her out of her thoughts. He was studying her casually, and had probably caught an expression of concern cross her face as she read the letter to herself.

She faked a chuckle. "Heh, only a little bit." Lauren paused, then decided she wanted to investigate Narthas' little friend a bit. Lauren tucked the letter into her boot and turned her attention back to the man. "So who exactly runs this place? How did he get all this equipment here?"

The barkeep cleared his throat, obviously thinking up something to say. "Well, I got here about six months after it's opening. The guy that founded it, Alt Fen (we call him A-Fen), liked to keep it's origins a bit of a mystery. Rumor has it that he originally got all of this gear from some Elf..."

Lauren's attention was really captured at this point. "Oh yeah? How is that even possible, though? I didn't think that any of them had access to modern luxuries."

"Well, I gave it a little thought and concluded that this Elf must have worked for DERIF, and smuggled this stuff in just as any other modern furnishings that were brought in to Rivendell. But then I found out that at the time of this supposed exchange, the Waypoint portal didn't have a proper outlet into Middle-earth. Construction on that bookstore didn't begin until three years ago after they started having problems with fans appearing in random places through the Homely House. Kids would end up in trees, on roofs, in people's rooms, etc. Trust me: Elrond hated the idea of building a place to house the gate, but it had to be done. Meanwhile, he was pressured by some of the older (or first, rather) fans to make a place to help the newcomers with their transition, and so the bookstore was built. DERIF was formed around that time too... they couldn't have these kids running around like Middle-earth was some playground. There had to be rules, right?"

Laure nodded. "Totally. Or else fangirls would be ruining it for everyone."

"Exactly. But I kind of feel bad for Elrond. He's technically the head of the organization right now, and it's a tough job. I think it's the fans that are keeping the Elves from leaving, really. It's a sad situation, but ever since John was accidentally sent here and wrote about it, it opened up an avenue that might not be truly beneficial to anyone. It's definitely screwed things up for some people here, but it can't really be helped. They didn't tell you what the situation was when you chose to come here, right?"

She shook her head.

"Right! No one told you what it was going to be like, right? All you had to go on was mental images conjured from reading the books, or Peter Jackson's vision, which apparently some of the fans don't even know about because they died before the movies came out. But hey, you've got to deal with it however you can, right? You wanted to come here, and you want to have a fun afterlife here. And that's all anyone that came here wanted, and they found this place. It's breaking rules, sure, but it's not doing any harm. The residents don't know about it, and A-Fen's taken some good precautions to avoid that."

"You know, speaking of Fen," she said, directing the conversation to suit her needs since this guy seemed to like talking. "Who is he? I saw the banner outside, and I've heard a few rumors... is he really from the Lucas universe like people say?"

The barkeep nodded, leaning in close and lowering his voice. "That's got to stay on the down-low, though. I don't know how you knew that, because as far as I can tell no one else knows... (they assume the banner has the Rebel logo on it because he just likes Star Wars too.) But that kind of thing can't get out, all right? You can't tell anyone."

She nodded.

"How'd you figure that out, anyway?"

Lauren paused, and considered her next move. Would it be wise to reveal her ties with Narthas? So far, she'd been throwing it around like she were bragging about a new pair of shoes. She inhaled sharply, leaned in closer, and spoke in an even lower voice. "I think I'm good friends with the Elf that helped Fen furnish this place."

His gray eyes widened, eyebrows raised. "Yeah? How can you be so sure?"

"I just know," was all she said before straightening up again. She gestured to the door behind him with a jerk of her head. "What's in there?"

He glanced behind him at the door. "Mighty curious, aren't you?"

She grinned innocently. "I like to know what I'm getting into before I commit to something." The barkeep made a face that told her he didn't completely understand what the comment meant and that he was starting to grow mildly suspicious of her by then. But it seemed that he wasn't going to try withholding information from her because she knew more than she let on.

"Well, to be honest," he began. "I'm not entirely sure. I know there are a few storage rooms, a walk-in freezer, and even living quarters, but that's all I know about. I've got keys to the freezer and storage rooms, but not Fen's suite, or this other door."

"Other door?"

"Well, I can only guess what goes on behind there. Something tells me that there's a lot more beyond it than just another room, but I can't tell. Whatever's on the other side, though, is valuable because there's one hell of a lock on it."

She nodded her head in thought for a moment. "Hey, how does he make any money? I didn't have to pay to get in here."

The barkeep seemed to be caught off-guard by the suddenly casual question. "Er... well, uhm, people pay for food and drinks, pay for games of pool, or rent Risk or Monopoly to play. And there's an admission fee at the door for shows. Believe it or not, there are a few groups that play. We've got resident ska, rock, and jazz bands that perform a few nights out of the month, and the second Saturday of every month we turn this place into a real club- complete with strobe lights and 90's dance remixes."

"Sweet. You have a schedule?"

"Oh. Yeah." He reached under the counter, and then handed her a small pamphlet marked with a calendar of events for the next months: August and September.

"That reminds me," she muttered to herself. "What's today's date, by the way?"

"July 25th. Easy to forget, right?" he chuckled.

"Haha, yeah, without watches and calendars and stuff everywhere." Lauren tucked the schedule into her other boot and stood up. "Well, I've got to be heading out. It's a long ride down, and I've got other errands to run. It was nice talking to you, uh..."

The barkeep held out his hand. She shook it as he introduced himself. "Steven," he said. "Or Saeros."

"Nice to meet you, Steven. I'll be back in a few days, I hope. You think Fen'll be back by then?"

Steven shrugged. "He didn't tell me where he was going, so I have no idea. Seemed a little distraught if you ask me, though."

"Ah," she said, nodding slowly. "Well, thanks again. I'll see you around, I guess." Lauren was just about to turn around and leave when one more question presented itself to her, and she stopped, whirled around, and spoke. "Just one more thing: why did Fen come here to begin with? I'm sure it had nothing to do with making money."

The man pondered this for a moment before answering. "I think I remember him saying that he was looking for someone that might have been here, but I don't know."

"Hm... All right. And thank you yet again. Bye!" Lauren strode across the dark red industrial tiling and exited the club.

* * *

By the time she got to the first level of the city, it was already in the afternoon. She stopped by the Golden Thread again, and much to her pleasure, the riding outfit was done, complete with fountain logo and all. Lauren was quite eager to see Narthas' reaction to the gesture. It was a cute idea, wearing the heraldic device of his house into battle, despite it being extinct for millennia. She liked the idea of displaying a strange kind of familial tie with him, as they really did feel like family. Satisfied with her purchase, Lauren carefully packed it away into one of her bags, and rode on out of the city back to Emyn Arnen. It took just over an hour to reach the 'driveway' of Faramir's house, where she handed Miril over to Geran. 

She did a small victory dance in her mind at having returned far before sundown, and decided to go inside to have a rest before meeting with Hound again.

Lauren entered the house and headed down the hall, but Bergil appeared from another corridor and stood in her way. "There are Elves that have come looking for you while you were away," he said bluntly. There was a gleam of something in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher, but it didn't seem to be a good thing.

"Elves?" she repeated.

"Elves." With that, the young man grabbed her sleeve and began to lead her upstairs. "They brought news of King Eomer's attempted assassination after his messenger was waylaid on the road, and they tell us that the horse of Rivendell you supposedly borrowed was instead stolen."

"What?!" Lauren couldn't believe her ears! What was going on exactly? Who were these Elves that have come to fuck everything up? She was going to open her mouth and spit out these questions, but it was too late. Bergil flung open the door of Faramir's study and practically pushed her inside. That was just perfect; all Bergil needed was hard evidence in order to really hate her even more.

The scene before her made her want to make a run for it, and never be seen in Emyn Arnen again. Faramir was pacing, Eowyn was sitting down, a look of considerable distress twisting her face, and beside her sat two Elves, twins as it seemed, and there was only one pair of twin Elven brothers that she could think of. "Lords Elladan and Elrohir," she barked. "What is this?"

The two brothers rose as she and Bergil entered the room, and Faramir paused in his pacing to see what his guest had to say about the matter. "We are arresting you for a crime committed against the Elves of Imaldris," one of them said.

"Oh? And what crime would this be? If it concerns Miril, then you are terribly mistaken, for I took her with consent." It was difficult to maintain the Tolkien-esque speech when she was speaking almost as fast as she could form the words.

"If you did not acquire the consent of our father, then it is theft."

"Bullshit!" she blurted out. "Glorfindel lent her to me for the journey here!" Lauren saw that Faramir's attention was especially piqued now, and she knew that he realized her previous explanation of the beast was a complete lie. "But if you want the horse back so badly, take her! What the hell do you need me for?"

The other one addressed her this time. "The Lord Elrond should like to speak with you himself," he said, eyes narrowing. They began to take steps toward her, and that's when Lauren realized that this had nothing to do with the horse at all: they were arresting her as representatives of DERIF for breaking the laws set in place by that organization. It was also then that she decided that somehow taking steps backward would help her out of this situation. "Now if you should come with us peacefully, then the ride will not be so long and tiresome."

Her back met with a wall. She looked at both of them with poorly-concealed anger and fear for a few moments, before addressing Faramir, who's expression was now one of severe disappointment. "Lord!" she called over to him. "I never meant to lie to you and your family. I would never have brought any grievance upon this house, and I would have cared for Elboron as I would a brother all the same--" Her arms were grabbed by the twins then, one for each of them. She struggled to maintain eye contact with Faramir. "There are things that I cannot even now tell you, but all I ask is for your forgiveness."

The lord of the house gazed long at her with smoldering gray eyes. "You are forgiven," he said sternly. "But now all I ask is that you not return to this house when your are let free again." Lauren's mouth fell open, but she really couldn't blame him. Then he turned to the two Elves. "I thank you for delivering this grave news, though it angers me greatly. Eowyn and I will leave for Rohan as soon as we may."

"There is no need to thank us, Prince of Ithilien, and we wish the both of you a swift journey. But here do we now take our leave, and this girl will burden you no more."

Faramir said nothing in response to that last comment, other than: "Bergil, fetch her things and meet them outside."

"Yes, lord." The young man nodded his head and was out the door like it were a pleasure to help kick her out. She wanted to spit in his face, but before she knew it, the twin DERIF secret police pushed her down the stairs and out of the house. As she stood there, smoldering and waiting for one of them to get the three horses, a million ideas passed through her head as to what she was going to do. Should she make a run for it? No, they'd easily catch up to her. Should she... go with them willingly? And then make a run for it when they got to Rivendell? Probably not... an entire hunting party might be sent after her. But how would Narthas know where she was?

"Your things, Laurelin," a voice said from behind her. Lauren turned around to see Bergil drop her saddlebags onto the ground. "Or whatever your name might be," he muttered, before walking back into the house. Lauren wasn't able to stop herself from hocking up a fair amount of phlegm and catapulting it after him. The wad hit Bergil in the shoulder with a small noise, which was cause enough for him to come back over. "How dare you!" He raised his hand to smack her, and Lauren was fully prepared for it (and also ready to strike back), but one of the Elves caught the young man's wrist just as he was about to land a blow.

"She is to remain unharmed, boy."

Bergil recoiled, standing with squared shoulders and a set jaw. "Yes, lord," he said, before turning around and leaving them alone for good. Geran brought out the three horses. Two of them, big black things belonging to Elladan and Elrohir, were saddled and ready to go, and then there was Miril, geared up with little more than a rope lead. She seemed uneasy.

The twins mounted their horses with incredible ease, and one gestured for Lauren to get on with him. She did. "I might be easier to deal with if I were bound," she snapped in a low voice.

"Nonsense," the elf snarled back. "You may be a criminal facing charges, but I do not want you falling and smashing your skull to pieces because you did not have the use of your hands."

"Excuse me, lords," Geran said to them. "But whatever she has done, know that she is a kind girl. I ask that you not be too hard on her."

"She will be punished by the laws of our people, sir. Farewell." With that, they rode off.

Just as they were out of earshot, Lauren turned on her captors. "What the hell is this about! You and I both know I didn't steal that horse! You're with DERIF, aren't you?"

"We are," the elf behind her said. "And we are taking you to Imladris for interrogation about the recent events at the request of our father. We should also like to know the whereabouts of your friend, Narthas Randomië."

Lauren wanted to see if they really knew anything about what was going on. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

They had reached the bottom of the hill, and just as she had done earlier, turned off the path. However, they paused. "We intercepted your letter to a Nichole Mitchell, and also her letter to you, and the information contained therein has provided us with reason enough to apprehend you and your secret agenda. Now if you stop asking questions, the ride will be much faster."

At that, they broke into a gallop.

Lauren couldn't let this happen. She couldn't get taken back to Rivendell, where she started. She didn't have time to inform DERIF of what was going on, and if they knew all of the happenings and things causing it, the organization would have the most powerful case against the existence of fans in Middle-earth, and would most likely demand that they be removed altogether. Or worse: all means to protect Middle-earth from the inevitable wave of destruction from the Sith and Decepticons would be eliminated.

She couldn't let any of it happen. And so, at the top of her lungs, she began to shout. "_**HOUND! HOUND! HELP!**_"

* * *

Review! Review! 


	16. On Serious Trouble

_**A.N:**__ Ah, delicious delicious personal canon._

_And also...  
...should I put this in crossovers? D:_

_Because when I first uploaded this story, I never intended other fandoms to have such major roles... I figured that the Middle-earth setting and Middle-earth-centric story would compensate for all of the inter-fandom interaction that I'd write. But perhaps that's no longer the case..._

* * *

"_**HOUND!**_" she shrieked into the late afternoon sky. Lauren struggled furiously against the Elf's attempts to restrain her.

"Perhaps we should have bound you!" he said poisonously.

Lauren was trying everything to free her from his grasp- she couldn't go with them! "You get your hands the fuck off me!" And suddenly, her mindless flailing accomplished something. Her elbow met with the softness of his gut, and with a groan, his guard was let down just long enough to let her push herself off the horse and tumble to the ground. It was a hard fall, but Lauren jumped up as fast as she could into the direction of the house once more, all the while calling for robotic companion.

The elf that she hadn't attacked was hot on her trail though, and was catching up rather quickly. She dodged into a thicket in attempts to lose him, but it only slowed the fearless horse the slightest bit. She kept running, and running, ducking out of the way when he tried to grab her hair or collar. Soon enough, there were two Elves, angry as hell, in pursuit.

Then suddenly, a giant wild cat leapt out from in front of them, roaring with such fierceness that the horses reared up and backed away.

"What is this, now!" one of the Elves said. The two of them stared at Hound in his animal form, eyes flaming, before drawing their swords. "We do not fear your pets, girl," said one. "Come, Elladan, let us dispose of this poor beast."

The twins dismounted their horses, and charged at the Autobot. He was ready.

Lauren backed away from the scene, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. "Don't kill them!" she shouted.

Elladan and Elrohir attacked Hound with masterful fervor, but it took them only a few hits to realize that their blows were doing nothing, and even seemed to be striking metal rather than flesh. Hound took that opportunity to knock them both the ground, pinning each one under a paw.

"What wizardry is this!" gasped Elrohir under the weight of the paw on his chest. Hound growled menacingly at him.

Then, much to everyone's surprise, Hound spoke, from somewhere in the depths of his chassis: "It's none of your concern." She saw his eyes flicker a bright blue for just a moment, before he released them, beckoning for Lauren to get on his back. She did, albeit awkwardly, and watched as the twin sons of Elrond sprang to their feet, eyes and mouths wide in awe and fear, and mounted their horses once again before riding off.

"Come on, we need to go,"she said. The two of them disappeared into the trees. They went on for some time, heading north-east, before stopping on a grassy rise. Lauren slipped off him, and began to nervously pace. After a moment or so of watching, Hound transformed.

"What exactly happened?"

The girl stopped her movements, though her arms remained crossed. "Those two Elves are the sons of Elrond, the head of the organization that makes all the rules for the fans here. They got whiff that I'd been participating in some questionable activities and socializing with questionable individuals, and so thought it necessary to arrest me, since they knew where I was."

"But why you? I thought your long-haired friend would be held more accountable for that than you. Now I'm not saying that this is all his fault, but, he's done more "wrong" by their standards than you have." Hound's eyes flickered with concern.

"That's exactly what's going on here," she sighed. "I'm guilty by association. I think they intended to use me to get to Narthas, which is who they _really_ wanted, but they don't know where he is. I'm sure if they found out about all of these portals that he and Morithil made, they might put him away until the End of Days," she chuckled, though the laugh was more out of stress than humor. She knew the consequences if a fan broke the rules, but... what would they do to an Elf? DERIF couldn't have him expelled from Middle-earth, could they? "And it doesn't help that he's got a bad rap with Elrond to begin with. Whatever punishment that he would have faced might be twice as bad because of it."

She looked up and saw the bot wince. He was silent for a moment before speaking. "So what happens to you now?"

"Faramir doesn't want to see me again, so I can't return to Emyn Arnen. And then following Narthas and the other two Autobots would be far too risky at this point in time. I think our best bet is to go back to Minas Tirith."

"But what about me? I can't be seen in either form."

"I'm... not sure. I know that at certain points in Arda's history, large animals and stuff existed, but I don't know how they would react to you in this day and age. I think that the safest place for the two of us right now would be in the Underground while we wait for Narthas to get back. If we could somehow get past the guards at all of the gates, then we'll be alright."

"Hmm..." he rubbed his chin, striking her as being a very human gesture. "I suppose we don't have a choice, do we? Now, where do you suppose those two Elves went?"

"They probably are headed back to Rivendell to report to Elrond what happened here," she sighed. "Christ, this situation is getting worse and worse. The very people we're trying to protect want us out of their lives, and they'll use just about any reason to expel us."

"I'm sure things'll work themselves out, right?"

Lauren laughed darkly. "You're such an Autobot."

"And proud of it!"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, we need to make it back to the city. If we walk at a good pace, we'll get there after the street traffic dies down and hopefully you'll draw as little attention as possible."

They started to walk along in a northerly direction, and Hound was noticeably quiet. Then she caught him making a "hm" noise.

"What?" she inquired, looking up at him as they walked.

"I wonder..." he continued rather vaguely.

"What!"

"I was just wondering if I could use my holographic projectors to cloak myself."

"Oh my god, that's right! You can cast holograms!" The girl exclaimed. "Why the hell haven't you used it before?"

"Well, I either wanted to conserve energy, or I didn't think it would've been appropriate for the challenge at hand..."

"Try it!" she barked. "What sorts of things can you disguise yourself as?"

"Anything I've got solid image memories of," he replied. He thought for a moment, before an 'aha!' expression crossed his robotic face. "How about your friend, Narthas?"

The two of them stopped walking, and Lauren eagerly beckoned him to continue. "Try it, dude. We've got nothing to lose, really."

"Alright," said Hound. He stood perfectly still, when a small device mounted to his shoulder began to move. His form started to fizzle with scanlines, a much smaller one flickering in his place here and there. It was like she was watching an old TV not fully tuned to a channel, or a tape that had shitty tracking. A few moments later, the 15 foot robot was replaced by a 6 foot, one inch Elf with brown hair and dressed in an assortment of greens. He grinned and gestured to himself. "Not bad, huh?"

Lauren's mouth fell open and she walked up to touch him. This hologram of Narthas had Hound's voice, but she wanted to see if it was more than just an image. Much to her disappointment, however, she was not 2 feet from him when she collided with something big and solid, resulting in a disruption of the image.

"Hey, hey! Careful, there," 'Narthas' said. "I may look smaller now, but it's just a form of cloaking. The real me is still here, it's just not visible." And to prove it, an invisible hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet while the hologram of Narthas remained standing still.

"Ugh, I'm going to have a bruise from that," she mumbled, feeling her face, dully surprised when she found her nose wasn't bleeding. "You know," Lauren said, looking from the hologram to where she tried to espy the real form of Hound. "This idea seemed much cooler a few minutes ago. Try walking?"

The image of Narthas strode around, but he was accompanied by low, heavy footfalls and indentations in the soil from the robot's real feet.

"Yeah, I'm starting to wonder if we might be better off trying to sneak you in with your puma form."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, allowing the hologram of Narthas to disappear. "Let me try disguising myself in my alternate form."

That, as Lauren imagined, would be a far better idea. It was a much more manageable dimension than the one he was currently at. And so, with little ado, Hound folded himself up like origami paper and turned into a wildcat the size of a rhinoceros. His eyes flickered a daring shade of blue.

"You know," Lauren said, interrupting his concentration. "I was wondering. If you're from the first generation of Transformers, then how come you can turn into an animal at all? I thought all you guys could scan were machines and vehicles, and the animals were left up to Transformers from the Beast Machines era."

Hound laughed. "I don't really know what you're talking about, but I can say that adopting organic shells is Pretender technology. It's just a different kind of disguise, really. And it adds some armor and stuff like that, but it mainly serves as a defense against more minor organic threats."

"OH!" she burst out, making a wild gesture. "I remember reading about Pretender technology on the internet somewhere. Didn't some Decepticon invent it, and then Megatron thought that the process was disgusting and unnatural and all that, so the project was dropped?"

"Hmm," the robot said, searching the ground as he thought. "Not that I know of. To the best of my knowledge, us Autobots came up with it as yet another means if disguise. Some of the more advanced versions even allow us to take on human forms, and even shrink down to your size too!"

Lauren let her head fall back and shoulders slump. "Why the hell didn't you kids bring that technology with you when you came here! That would have made things so much frakkin' easier."

"Hey, it's not my fault that the Pretenders were busy, trying to figure out the importance of that one planet.. what's it called... Coruscant. Look, if worse comes to worse, I'll ask Prime that he send us Sky High and Waverider, maybe. At any rate, I'm gunna see if this idea works if you don't mind?"

She folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "Go right ahead."

She watched as Hound proceeded to cloak himself as a quadruped. His form, just as it did before, fizzled in and out, slowly being replaced by an image of a horse. And not just any horse, but Elladan's horse. Complete with tack and all. Lauren grinned and nodded her head in approval.

"Now that's what I'm talking about. This is FAR more convincing, and frankly, far less creepy too." She took a few steps closer to inspect the authenticity of the hologram. So long as no one reached out to touch him, Hound had turned himself into a bona-fide warhorse. "You know, it's a shame that I can't hold onto the reigns. People might think I'm weird with a horse following me around, but oh well. I've done more outlandish things in public before."

"Oh, thank Primus," he sighed, shaking off the hologram. "I can't let my concentration break while doing it this way, but it's going to be better than what we had before."

"You can't break your concentration?"

"When I stop thinking about it, the hologram will disappear. Just a precaution my system takes so I don't go using energy when I don't need to."

"Ah. Alright then. Well, getting to the fifth tier of the city takes a while. I just hope you don't have ADD, because if you're suddenly not a horse anymore on the main street of Minas Tirith, then... we'll get run through or something. And getting run through is never fun, no matter what anyone has told you."

"Haha! You can certainly attest to that, can't you?" He gestured with his head at Lauren's midsection, where Narthas' stitches were still holding in what remained of her vital organs.

"Well, the way I see it, I've lost a few inches around the waistline, and that's never a bad thing," she laughed. "But in all seriousness, we should get a move on. I don't want to stick around in any one place for too long."

Hound nodded. "Of course. Come on, get on," he said, gesturing to his back. "You know, transporting the two of us would be so much easier if I had my proper vehicle alt mode."

"Well," she said, clambering up the wild cat with no more grace than any horse she had to ride along the journey. "Beggars can't be choosers. Or something."

"One in the hand is better than two in the smelting pool?"

"A watched pot never boils?"

"If it ain't damaged, don't repair it?"

"If life gives you lemons, make lemonade?"

"Primus helps those who help themselves?"

"Hahaha, sure. Let's go."

"That's what I was waiting for."

And with that, Hound bounded off through the trees in a northerly direction. Lauren kept a lookout for anything and everything along their short journey, wanting to make absolutely sure no one saw them, or that the twins weren't following them. To her great relief, however, neither of those things happened, and they came to the last bit of wilderness before Harlond just as the last bit of sun sunk below the horizon.

"Alright Hound," Lauren said, standing on her own two feet again. She gazed through the trees, past the road, and at the harbor district of the city. "This is where you gotta work your magic. And it's gotta work until we get to the fifth level." She pointed at the massive tiers of Minas Tirith a few miles away.

Hound followed her gaze in silence, she assumed, to try and assess the difficulty of his task.

"It's gonna take almost two hours to get there from here, so all you have to worry about is following me. I'll do the thinking, kay?"

The robot nodded his furry head and stood still as he concentrated on the cloaking hologram. Just as in the same manner as before, and a few moments of time, Hound successfully concealed himself in the guise of Elladan's horse.

"Ready?" she asked.

The voice came seemingly out of nowhere. "Ready as I'll ever be!" The horse shook its head and stamped at the ground. He was surprisingly good at this.

Lauren's heart was in her throat and blood pumped in her ears as they stepped out of the foliage and onto the road. There were few people out now, most likely returning to whatever little town they lived from the big city. The girl fought hard to keep her face from turning a beet red in anxiety. It was extremely similar to their situation on the road from Edoras, except it wasn't just one band of people, it was a gazillion of them for the next two hours.

"Stay close," she said in a low voice, constantly glancing about to make sure that no one was looking too long and close at them. But as she began to nervously reason with herself... why should they? It was just a young woman and her horse (...somehowequippedwithelvishridinggear...?) after all. They'd been walking for a few minutes, and downtown Harlond was nearing. The streets were slowly becoming more populated, but Lauren was easing up a bit as no one really seemed to take too much notice of her so far. She did glance over her shoulder every once and a while to make sure Hound was keeping up, as she could only imagine what it took to maintain such a complicated disguise. Her only real fear was that the hologram would flicker; even for just a split second. Such a thing would indeed merit many looks and perhaps action against them?

Hell, Lauren didn't know what people would do if they found her giant can friend was projecting holograms around himself, so perhaps that's what made her most nervous. Fear of the unknown, sure whatever.

Things were going rather well, actually, and Lauren allowed a small, brief smirk to cross her jerky face at their progress.

Unfortunately, just as they crossed the bridge, all had managed to go to hell in a hand basket.

A horrible terror momentarily incapacitated her when she saw a small group congregated on the far end of the bridge. There seemed to be five soldiers, and two men with two black horses, discussing something very important. Lauren froze in her tracks, and Hound pumped into her.

"Shit, Hound, we've got to turn around." She must've looked terribly conspicuous just standing there, staring in the middle of the bridge.

"Hunh?"

"Go. Back." The girl meant to turn right back around and dash in the other direction, but voices caught her attention. "Run!" And with that, she broke into a jog. "Forget about your disguise if you need to!"

"There she is, men!" came an uncomfortably familiar voice, and all seven members of the group gave chase. "Arrest her!"

Oh yes, now people were looking. She didn't look back at Hound, who she wouldn't have been surprised to find flickering between appearing as a horse and a cougar as he attempted to both follow her and maintain his guise.

"Don't let her escape!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she hissed to herself as she neared the south end of the bridge. The men were definitely gaining on her, and before she knew it, the twin sons of Elrond had her. One had caught and twisted her arm in an incredibly painful manner that wouldn't allow her to move without white hot pain to shoot through her shoulder. She yelled curses at him. "Let me go! You have no idea what's going on!"

"Oh, we do know!" he spat, still holding fast to the girl's arm while remaining mounted on his horse. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hound hesitate as the Gondorian soldiers approached him, before deciding it would be beneficial to shake off his disguise and fight back. Cries of awe and fear bubbled up when Hound revealed his true alt form. But a barking order from one of the elves brought them back to their task.

"Your tricks will do nothing this time, you poor wretch," snapped her captor as he watched one of the soldiers brandish a thick line of rope and skillfully lasso the giant creature tightly around the neck as the other five distracted him. Hound roared in anger as the thing strangled him, knocking one of the soldiers off the bridge and into the water.

"Hound!" she shouted from her awkward position, quite afraid to move. "Don't transform, Hound! Just... just don't fight them!"

The crowd that had gathered was watching in shock. Some people were shouting angrily at the girl and her strange pet, some were talking to each other in hushed voices. Some were simply staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. She craned her neck to make visual contact with her friend, who was looking at her with sad eyes as he was leashed with another rope. He was no longer fighting them. Other soldiers ran to the aid of the group, spears held offensively at the Autobot.

"You shall not escape again, girl." The elf let her go for the sole purpose of shoving her at two soldiers. She stumbled forward into their cold armor, clutching her arm. They caught her, none-too-kindly, however, and whirled her around so that she might be bound too. The twine they used was thin and sharp against the delicate skin of her wrists, and she suddenly found herself hating these people. As they were being led away towards Minas Tirith, one of the twins turned and addressed the awe-struck crowd. "If any of you good people of Gondor should happen upon another one of these foul, soulless beasts, call for aid from the Guard, and it shall be disposed of!" He pointed with his sword at the slumped form of Hound as he made his way across the bridge, and the people burst out in angry shouts. Some of them followed the group, and as they passed through Harlond, a small mob amassed behind them through the Rammas gate. Lauren found herself being the target of several foul foodstuffs, but unfortunately her captors didn't seem to care. She heard some of the words that these people were calling her, and among them were "witch" and "devil" and "herald of evil". Where in the hell were they getting these names! Did they know anything of the situation at hand at all? Even the false one crafted by Elladan and Elrohir?

Fortunately, the mob was not allowed to enter the city gate, and Lauren was able to trudge along in anxious peace. Up, up, up they went. The first gate passed, and the second. Lauren was consumed in thought that make her hands shaky and clammy. What exactly was in store for her? Were Elladan and Elrohir going to tell Aragorn the situation, and deal with her after? Why wasn't she being taken to Elrond like originally planned?

Third gate, fourth gate, fifth gate. Lauren's heart skipped a beat when they marched passed the Underground. She couldn't tear her eyes from the red door, closed and silent, and in fact wanted to shout out to the fans inside for help. But she couldn't. She didn't dare hint that that building, so unassuming with its red door and three cyprus trees out front, was the Minas Tirith fan HQ and home to the region's very own portal. Lauren quickly averted her gaze once more to the ground beneath her feet for fear of directing attention to the building. She refused to betray that last bastion of hope for Middle-earth.

Sixth gate.

Were they headed for the citadel? Was she to be brought before the king? Lauren paled even further when more thoughts invaded her brain, involving images of pyres, and stewards leaping off the end of the rock precipice dividing the city in half. She must have been so engrossed in these however, that she didn't notice where she was going until a single step almost tripped her. The twine cut into her wrists as she stumbled, a quaint little "fuck" escaping her mouth.

"Keep walking," ordered one of her Gondorian captors. He pushed her forward a bit more to somehow improve her footing, but the basic idea of the motion was understood by the receiving party. Lauren looked up at her surroundings as the group entered a long, flat building. It was dark inside, and didn't take her long to figure out that it was a jail. She was led down a corridor lined with cells. Some of them were occupied, some weren't. The inmates were either sleeping, or pacing, or brooding in the corner; not at all like how she would have imagined medieval prisons to look. Unfortunately for her, they weren't done yet. At the end of the dim hall was a staircase, and down they descended, into an even dimmer and fouler space. The cells here were slightly bigger and separated. They didn't share a wall like the others did, and she noticed no one was down here, leading her to believe that this level of the jail was meant for prisoners with longer sentences, or who were just more dangerous. Lauren didn't like the looks of it.

The Gondorians halted her in front of the first cell, and abruptly cut her bonds before shoving her inside. She saw Hound being brought in, neck suspended in an uneasy balance between two competing leads. "Tie him up in the far cell," ordered one of the twins. "We shall occupy ourselves with the beast later. Now, our chief concern is this villainous imp. Please, if two of you should keep vigil over them while my brother and I go to speak with your King Thorongil."

The two who had manhandled Lauren in the first place offered. "Of course, Lords." They bowed low.

"Your service is greatly appreciated, Gedhorn and Avrinod, though hopefully we shall have her in our custody and out of your hands before long."

Lauren rushed up to the bars and grabbed hold of them, as if they would somehow yield to her grip. "You don't know what you're doing!" she yelled after the elves, her voice echoing in the dank space. "You have to let me go!" Unfortunately, her cries went unheeded by everyone except the two men guarding her.

"Shut your mouth girl, or we shall silence you ourselves," the man named Avrinod grumbled as he took a rather lazy seat on a bench near the staircase. Gedhorn paced back and forth in front of her cell before remembering about Hound, keeping still, silent, and wary in his. Lauren was about to sit on the floor against the wall and shut up, but she rushed over to the bars again when she saw the man approach her friend and brandish a knife.

"You leave him the fuck alone!" she roared, straining through the bars. She knew very well that the knife would do little to no damage at all to Hound, but it was the very idea of this guy trying to abuse the robot that did not sit well with her.

"Oh, shut up," Avrinod snapped from where he sat, picking at his nails with his own knife.

Lauren watched as Gedhorn walked back and forth around Hound's cage, smirking to himself. He was thumbing the edge of his knife. "Where'd you find such a fine beast?" he asked Lauren in a dark tone. "Biggest one I've yet seen was half his size. I reckon he's tough.. likes to fight at any rate." Here he jerked the knife out at Hound to make him jump, but the robot did no such thing. _Keep your cool,_she thought to herself. _Please, for the love of god keep your cool, Hound.. _Gedhorn continued. "He sure does like to fight. Mauled those elves on the wayside, and tried to maul us too. He got Ethron at any rate, though he should be alright. Valiant lad... fought 'longside me in the war, he did." He paused here and stopped walking, instead approached the bars of the cage and looked down at the giant wildcat for a few moments. "He reminds me very much of those foul creatures of the battle of Pelennor that we slew one by one..." His tone was angry now, vengeful. Lauren saw his grip on the hilt of the knife tighten. "Monsters in the service of the Enemy, they were. Created for the sole purpose of destroying every last man of this country, burning every last city to the ground." He was roiling now. "How dare you charm such a demon and bring him to our lands? How dare you attempt to bring shadows back into Gondor now that we have had a little peace!"

"Gedhorn," Avrinod was standing now.

"We do we not slay this deceptive monster now?" Lauren saw Hound visibly flinch when the guard mentioned the word 'deceptive'. "Do away with this beast, and this girl, so that they may not bother us again?"

"Gedhorn!"

Many things happened at just that moment. For one, Gedhorn dropped his knife and unsheathed his sword, pulling his arm back like a spring ready to leap at the robot with tremendous force. Avrinod, seeing this, darted at his fellow soldier, filling the air with commands begging him to stop.

And Hound, seeing this, transformed.

The cell was nowhere near large enough for the robot, as the cougar's head split down the middle and shifted to the side, snapping the rope. The back cracked open and the legs too, shifting out of the way in many intricate pieces. This happened so quickly that Gedhorn struck Hound's humanoid knee without being able to stop himself. When the blade struck metal, sending sparks flying, Avrinod collided with him, slamming them both into a wall. By that time, the Autobot was finished with his transformation and peered down at them, crouched in his cell, with bright blue optics blazing. The two soldiers were white as a sheet, trembling, and silent.

"If you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone," the robot snorted (as best a robot could snort, anyhow).

"By the gods..." they breathed. Avrinod took a step closer to the large humanoid, drawing his sword. "By what name are you called, be you foul or be you honorable?"

"I'm Hound," he said, transforming back into his slightly more compact alternate mode. "And don't you be mistaking me for one o' those damn Decepticons!"

Lauren, in shock, managed to find her voice, seeing as this was a good opportunity to butt in. "Neither of us mean any Gondorian harm!" she called out, trying to merit herself attention. "Nor did we ever want to disrupt the peace, especially now, after the war. But you have to promise to tell no one of what you just saw, or else we will find ourselves in considerable danger over nothing."

Gedhorn seemed to have sobered up quite a bit and rather quickly, remaining silent in what appeared to be shame while his friend did all the talking now.

"Then enlighten me as to why you are here, and why Elrond's sons sought to arrest you, because I am loth to now believe their tale of a stolen horse."

The girl froze up again. She saw Hound jerk his head in her direction, waiting for her new story. After a few uneasy moments, she spoke. "No, they were right. It was technically a stolen horse, and then when they arrested me for that crime, I attacked them and escaped. So I think that this is more for the latter offense than the horse..."

Avrinod looked thoroughly perplexed. But he shook his black-haired head after a moment. "Whatever your crime may have been, it is certain now that you face a trial for it. I do not wish to assume you are either innocent or guilty of whatever charges are against you, but we will observe your request and leave the both of you be for now, and neither will we speak of what has transpired here lest I discover that your motives are indeed dishonorable."

Lauren bowed her head. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Hound said.

The two guards returned to the bench, then. Gedhorn sat down and Avrinod paced in front of him. No one spoke.

After what must have been close to an hour later, Lauren's ears perked up from where she sat on the ground, and Avrinod stopped his nervous pacing when footsteps were heard descending the stairs, followed by two angry, identical voices.

"So we will have to stay in the city then," one said bitterly.

"Yes, brother, we must, until the girl is in our custody..."

Ah, Lauren thought. Of course. Elladan and Elrohir. She remained sitting on the floor, picking at her nails and the grime in the grout of the stones under her feet.

"Good evening, Lords," Avrinod said solemnly. His partner rose from where he sat, merely nodding in acknowledgment.

"We have returned to inform you that we are fighting for her return to Rivendell so that she may be tried by our people, but your King maintains that because the crime occurred on his land, her trial will be held here." One of the twins shot a nasty look at her through the bars of the cell. "We do not agree with this decision, so we will fight it as long as it is appropriate to do so. Meanwhile, she will remain here."

The guards nodded. "Yes, Lords."

"Thank you. We shall perhaps return tomorrow?" said one of the elves. "But that is no matter."

"Oh!" The other brother broke in here. "And also. Should a man by the name of Narthas Randomië come here, you have our permission to imprison him as well. He is a wanted man among the Elves at this time. His hair is of a brown dark enough to be mistaken for black, and his eyes are of a most peculiar green. You will know him when you see him. Good night, men."

As the two sons of Elrond turned to leave, Avrinod looked Lauren's way: the gaze was both a warning and a threat, and it spoke volumes.

She just swallowed sharply and averted her eyes in the direction of a wall.


	17. On Covers Blown

_**A.N.:**__ Well, as you might have expected, this is where things begin to pick up._

HEY AND GUESS WHAT? I'm contemplating turning this story into a full-fledged comic when I'm done. Yes, it's 100x the work, but I've written it much like a movie, and so I think it would translate extremely well onto paper.

Would you kids read it if I undertook such a challenge?

And also: REVIEW, PLEASE. I know people are reading this. I have a handy-dandy hit counter for my stories, remember? There's no hiding from me. 

The night passed in an uneasy quiet.

Lauren must have dozed off a few times for the duration of the night, but it didn't much feel like it. For some reason, she felt horribly guilty about something, like she disappointed someone. In a sense, she understood part of that was for Avrinod, who showed a strange kindness to her and Hound after his partner almost attacked him in a rage.

Perhaps she felt guilty for simply being in Middle-earth anymore? Just the act of existing in a place and time that she shouldn't, being involved in a war unnecessarily brought to this peaceful little planet, and being caught up in a series of events that was out of her control. The only way Lauren could have avoided all of this was to not have gone there to begin with. But then, the invasion would have happened regardless, and without her to ally with the Autobots, and thus Narthas and Fen, the world would have been in an even bigger mess than it was.

At some point in the night, Avrinod and Gedhorn went to bed, being replaced by two other guards she didn't recognize. They chatted together quietly and gruffly, speaking words she couldn't quite hear. After a while of trying to listen, she gave up and they faded in the background.

Lauren turned around from where she sat on the floor, back to the guards and eyes on Hound now. He looked very much like a tired cougar, but without the other two Gondorians, there was no way she could get away with communicating to him. She stared as she continued to think, and one of Hound's optics opened, flashing with a distant light, and looked at her. She scrunched up her face, shaking her head and sighing at him, and he nodded his head lightly in return before casting his eyes downward again.

I don't know what to do now.

Neither do I.

Another few moments of thought passed, before Lauren whispered. "We'll wait a little longer." Hound eyed her, nodding again.

"What was that?" one of the guards broke the silence suffocating the jail. She heard the shuffling of his shoes on the floor as he adjusted himself on the bench.

"Isn't it common for a solitary prisoner to speak to herself?" she said without turning their way. She heard a grunt in return, and they said nothing.

One hundred years crawled by before the morning came. The golden light shot through the tiniest of windows, a keyhole almost, and made a small square of light on the floor in front of the Autobot's cell. Lauren jumped when she heard something behind her, an turned around to see one of the Gondorians slide a plate of food into her cell.

_Not only do I not need to eat_, she thought, _but I'm not even hungry!_

Lauren looked at the slice of bread and apple before standing up. "You can take it," she said, sliding the tray back out towards the guards. "I'm not hungry."

One of them laughed at her. "Well, save it for when you are hungry."

The girl smirked. "Don't worry, I won't be."

"You know," the other one said, yawning and stretching. He looked to be an average citizen of the country, what with black hair and gray eyes. He must've been in his thirties. "I still do not understand what it is you have done to merit throwing you in prison. What of your mother and father? Do they not know your whereabouts?"

The other man chuckled. "I hear it is of no use to listen to her. Every word from her mouth is a lie, and even her pet is a master of deceit. He cast upon himself a spell to look as a horse of the Lords of Rivendell yesterday!"

"Why do you go to such great lengths to deceive and disguise? What is it that you seek to hide so?" The first guard spoke to her directly.

Lauren looked through the bars at the tray on the floor in front of her, smiling. "It wouldn't be hidden if I told you, would it? And I have no parents, actually. I sprouted from a fissure in the earth of a world that existed before Numenor was raised for your ancestors to dwell on!"

The two guards looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. "The girl's gone mad, she has!" The first said.

She pressed her face up in between the bars. "But in all seriousness, gentlemen, you've got to let me out."

"And why is that?"

"Because there are things happening in Middle-earth beyond your control, and I have to help stop it."

The guards simply laughed and shook their heads again. "Mad," they said, and Lauren knew it was completely hopeless.

Tired of sitting down, Lauren began to pace in circles around her cell. She thought and brooded and puzzled and planned. How would she escape? How would Narthas know where to find her? Or worse yet, what if Elladan and Elrohir captured him before he was able to find her here in prison? What about Airlock and Gasket? If she would have found herself here under normal circumstances (Ha! Normal!) then she would have expected Narthas, with all of his various covert ties among the people of the White city, to bail her out of jail. But now that he was a wanted man, if he came here, he'd get arrested too. And that was bad news bears.

Sometime around late morning, the two Elves came back with Avrinod and Gedhorn to relieve the current pair guards of their shift.

"No one has yet come to see her?" one of the brothers asked of the two. She could tell the twins were getting more and more irritated that they couldn't just take her to Rivendell now.

"No, sir. No one."

The elf nodded in a satisfied manner. "Very good--"

But he was interrupted from a guard coming down the stairs. "Ah, excuse me, lords, but it seems she has one now." Two figures appeared down the steps, and she didn't recognize either of them. "This is a Saeros who claims blood relation to our prisoner."

The elves whirled around to get a look at this newcomer. He was dressed entirely in black, and had short hair. His face was unreadable and nearly emotionless. Lauren shook her head as she looked at him. The elves spared no scrutiny as they narrowed their eyes at him, then stole a glance at Lauren. "She has no blood relations here," one of them announced. "Take him away."

Lauren was still looking at him, as there seemed to be something off about this character. Something wasn't right at all. As the guard ushered him back upstairs, she saw him deliberately steal a glance at Hound at the far end of the room. But before she knew it, he was gone again. One of the twins strode over to her cell and stood in front of her. "Who was that," he demanded.

The girl looked up at him. "I have no idea who that was."

"You had better speak the truth, girl."

"I am speaking the truth! There was no part of him that I didn't find just as suspicious as you. In fact, I would go after him to see where he's going."

The elf's lips were drawn into a tight line when he considered Lauren's words. A few moments later, he turned around. "Find that young man, and bring him here!"

Avrinod, Gedhorn, and the guard who had brought down the dark stranger nodded and rushed back upstairs. Lauren, Hound, Elladan, and Elrohir waited in silence for a while, before one of the brothers addressed her. "You face a trial Thursday morning."

"Which one are you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Which twin are you. I can't for the life of me tell."

"Elrohir," he said.

"Alright, and what's today?"

"Tuesday, July 26th."

"All right," Lauren said, nodding. "And what's going to happen in this trial?"

"You'll be tried for our assault," he said, looking none-too-happy to share that information. "In the king's court here."

"And if I'm found guilty, which, of course I will be, where will I get carted off to afterward?"

"Aragorn has permitted us to take you back to Imladris." This thought seemed to wipe away some of the annoyance in his expression.

Lauren swallowed here, and felt slightly uneasy. "Fine." Although, of course, it wasn't really fine at all. In fact, it was the opposite of fine. It was **shitty**. It was a shitty thing to happen in a shitty series of events, and sooner or later, the shit would hit the shitty fan, and shit would go flying everywhere. "Does Narthas face a trial too?"

Elrohir smirked. "No he does not. He will be dealt with accordingly when he is returned to Imladris." Lauren groaned and ran her hand through her hair, falling silent once again.

Maybe ten minutes later, the group of three returned, panting. The twins turned their attention to the men. "Well?"

"There was no sign of him, sir," Avrinod said. "Dintalath ran immediately to the gate while Gedhorn and I ran about the entirety of this steppe. No one saw him, not even the gatekeepers. I told them to keep watchful of the lad and bring him here should he show his face."

"Good work, Avrinod," Elladan said, nodding. "It was all you could do. Now, the girl faces a trial thursday morning. If you could escort her to the court at nine o'clock, we would be grateful."

"Of course." Avrinod nodded.

"And also," Elladan said, bending over to pick the tray of food off the floor. "Do not let this go to waste, for she will not eat it."

Gedhorn was handed the tray. The two elves and Dintalath left, leaving Lauren exactly where she was the night before. Quite frankly the process was getting tiring, and just wished that they'd make up their mind about her and do what they were gonna do. Either let her go, or lock her away in Rivendell already!

"I will not even ask why it is you will not eat," Avrinrod sighed. "For this circumstance seems to be far beyond me." He sighed and set the food on a table before sitting down again.

Lauren turned her attention back to Hound for the first time in a few hours, and he still seemed to be asleep, except that his eyes were clearly open.

"Hey, psst, big guy," she said, sliding to a sitting position on the floor with her back against the bars. Hound partially came to life. At this point, she didn't really care if she talked to Hound with these two watching her. "You okay over there?"

The cat's head nodded. "Just scanning communication frequencies for anything suspicious."

"So that's what you've been doing."

"Well, that and conserving power."

Lauren sighed, sliding further down to the floor, until she was laying face up on the cold stone. "It's going to be a long day."

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait too long. A few hours into the afternoon, Lauren was brought out of her half-dazed and anxious state when she heard shouts coming from upstairs. Her ears perked up but she remained staring at the ceiling from where she lay on the floor. A few moments later and she heard Avrinod and Gedhorn get up to see what the commotion was about. And after a while, she began to recognize the voices, at which point she leapt up.

"Where is she!" one familiar voice demanded. "Where in the pits of Angband is she!"

"Narthas!" she attempted to yell. "Narthas! Get your ass out of here!"

"Lauren!" he called out. "Hey! You remove your hands from me! What is this!"

Straining to see what was going on up the stairs, she crouched down low and looked up. In no time at all, she saw feet making their way down the steps. Lo and behold, Narthas was being escorted downstairs by two guards, all the while curses issued forth from him. They threw him into the cell across from Lauren, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hound look up.

"Are you alright?" he asked when the door was drawn shut and locked. "By the Valar, I'm gone for four days, and all goes to Orodruin! What happened?"

"Shut up!" one of the guards said as he retreated back to his post upstairs.

Narthas scowled in his direction. "I will speak whenever I please!" He turned back to Lauren in the adjacent cell. "Now tell me what happened."

"We're in big trouble here, Narthas--"

"I know that. Just tell me what happened."

Lauren swallowed. "After one of the bots radio'd the location of the Underground to Hound the other day, I went to go check things out. I found out some interesting information, got my clothes from the seamstress, and returned to Emyn Arnen. When I got there, Elladan and Elrohir were waiting for me to arrive so they could arrest me for 'stealing a horse'. I found out later that they were taking me into custody because they'd intercepted my letter to Nicole, and wanted to get to you. That's why you've been apprehended too."

Narthas loosened his grip on the bars and his eyes fell downward. He was chewing on his lip.

"How'd you know I was here, and how'd you get back so fast?"

"Hound here," he thumbed in the robot's direction. "Sent a message to Gasket telling us what happened. Airlock gave me a lift back... he's really very fast. Covered upwards of 200 miles in less than three hours. But anyways... what happened to Elladan and Elrohir? How did you end up in a Gondorian prison?"

"We were headed away from the house, and I escaped, with Hound's help... unfortunately, they considered it a serious assault, and when we tried to get back to underground again, we were arrested in Harlond. Couldn't fight back really because there were crowds and such. Apparently Aragorn insists on holding my trial here in the city, and plans on turning me over to the Elves after a sentence has been reached. The Twins are still in the city waiting for my trial, which is in two days." Out of the corner of her eye she saw both of the guards staring at them, attempting to understand just what they were saying. Lauren decided not to pay them any mind any more. Consequences would come, regardless of what they said now. "What did you find out back west?"

"We didn't get close enough to see the mines themselves, but there was plenty of covert activity to know what was going on. We got into two fights with patrols. One with a Decepticon, and the other with a group of mutants. Those skirmishes were brutal... took its toll on my companions. But after those, I know now that there is no way that we can carry out an assault on the mines with three bots and a handful of humans. It will be a massacre."

"So what do we do then?"

Narthas shook his head, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. Lauren spotted shadows under his eyes. "I have no clue. Airlock is waiting for me a few miles west of here, and Gasket is still on his way."

"I'm sure Hound will contact them once they get closer... I don't think he wants to risk having baddies intercept communications between us."

"Got that right," said the robot from the far end of the room.

The elf nodded and took a seat on the ground of his cell. He was tired, and he definitely looked it. She wondered if he'd rested at all since they separated a few days before.

"So do we wait for our trials?"

He groaned. "That may be our only choice right now. But I don't get a trial, remember? Perhaps we'll regroup in Rivendell? If we're lucky, the Twins will wait to take me and we'll all go in one group after you've been sentenced. I could draw up a map for the Autobots, and they could follow us..." Narthas trailed off here and was silent for a short moment before looking up and addressing the guards. "Hey, you two. What's his fate?" The elf pointed at Hound.

"We know not," Gedhorn said darkly. "We might have thought to dispose of him before last night, but now we are not too sure."

Narthas stole a quick glance at Lauren before looking at them again with knitted brows and narrowed eyes. "What happened last night."

Lauren butt in. "Well, it's the reason I don't really care about talking to you openly about all of this stuff, other than the fact that they don't understand half of what we're saying." She swallowed. "Gedhorn mistook Hound for an agent of Sauron left over from the war. In a rage he tried to attack him, but Hound... transformed to let him know who was boss. The sword struck his knee and pretty much did nothing. It's really quite obvious that Middle-earth weapons won't do any good against any opposing factions at this point."

"Wait.. you mean to say that he transformed into his real form?" Lauren nodded. "In that cell?" Laure nodded again. "In front of these two?" Again. A pause as the gears turned in his head. "But they have no idea what's going on?" She nodded one last time.

"They seem pretty reasonable..." Lauren didn't want to single out Gedhorn for some reason. "And so we asked them to leave the situation alone. But now that you're here, it's going to be a little difficult."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but... it's bad news, kids," Hound said suddenly. He stood up on all fours, and looked at them both. His eyes brightened. "I just received word from Gasket that he was able to intercept a radio signal from a young man." Lauren and Narthas both stood up and stared at the robot. A chill anxiety took hold of the room, the air thickened, and Lauren's heart began to beat very fast. "The Decepticons know we're all here in the city."

"Dammit!" Lauren shouted, pounding the bars with her fists. "That kid that came in here this morning! I knew something was wrong with him." She turned to Avrinod and Gedhorn. "You have to let us out. Now. Or else we're all going to die."

"What kid?" Narthas demanded.

"This strange guy dressed in all black claimed to be a relative of mine so he could have access to the jail this morning. I suspect that he wanted a visual confirmation that the ruckus caused yesterday was really by our hands, and now he's alerted his superiors as to our location."

"Alerted who?" Avrinod demanded. "Who it is that you speak of? Now I shall take it upon myself to beseech of you what it is that is transpiring right beneath my nose. If it threatens this city, then we of Gondor must know of it."

"Then you need to release us, Avrinod," said Hound. "And you need to do it now."

The guard drew his sword, and Gedhron followed. "We will not, until you tell us what in the fires of Angmar is going on!"

Narthas shook his head. "There is no time. Hound! Will you do us the pleasure?"

"Gladly!" The Autobot transformed again, scrunched up in his cell, before ripping the bars out of the front with ease and tossing the metal into a corner, the clang reverberating through the space. The two guards gasped in shock and took a few steps back.

"I told you he is evil!" Gedhorn shouted.

"I would not be so sure," the other guard said, eyes fixed on Hound who stood hunched over him.

"How can you not be so sure?!"

The robot turned to his left and bent the bars enough for Lauren to squeeze out, and did the same thing for Narthas. It was about then that a whole group of prison guards came rushing down the stairs, swords drawn, to investigate the sudden shouts and clamor. Cries of terror and fear filled the air when the group of six saw Hound before them. Lauren and Narthas jumped out in front of their friend.

"He will not harm you!" Narthas shouted. "So long as you do not inhibit us!"

"What do you want from us?" Avinrod sheathed his sword with a shaking hand, realizing that if this creature wanted to kill them all, he could.

"Do not call for reinforcements!" Hound said. "And the Elf is right. We won't harm you if you let us pass."

"We need to speak to the King! Minas Tirith is no longer safe. The city must be evacuated," Lauren stated firmly.

The guard fell silent, shifting on their feet with unease. After a while, Avrinod threw up his arms. "You will follow me then."

Gedhorn's face exploded in shock. "What are you doing? Are you mad?"

"Do you see another choice?!"

The other guard closed his mouth, seething with fear and anger.

"Well?" Avrinod had started up the stairs but paused, seeing as no one was following him. "Would you like time with the King or not?"

Lauren nodded and looked up at Hound, cuing him to transform. He did so in a matter of two seconds, and the three of them followed their guide. The group parted to let them pass through, closing up behind them to follow. They passed up the stairs and past the rows of small cells. The entire building was hushed, and the inmates all watched in awe as the group exited the building.

The light outside was very bright to Lauren's eyes. Two of the prison guards remained behind to keep their watch, but three others followed close behind the girl, elf, and giant cougar, who in turn were following Avrinod and Gedhorn.

"Hound, how long will it take for Decepticons to get here?" Lauren asked.

He paused, thinking. "I would say by tomorrow they will be here. They're quick to carry out orders. However, they might not be so eager, since they think the three of us are still in jail, and won't be going anywhere any time soon. But if I know my Decepticons, which I do, they'll send seekers." Lauren inhaled sharply at the thought.

"Seekers?" inquired the elf.

"Starscream's cronies," Hound said bitterly.

Narthas visibly shuddered. "I don't much like that name."

"No one likes Starscream, not even Megatron. In fact, the only reason that damn Decepticon keeps him around is because he does his job very well. At least when he's not trying to assume power. But whether or not Starscream is even on this planet is something else entirely. Regardless though, most Decepticons can fly, so an aerial attack is a given."

They passed through the last gate then, walking up the road that would lead them to the Citadel. The city here was silent, and there were fewer -albeit far more skilled and ceremonially dressed- guards. It didn't take them long to see the group fast approaching the courtyard.

"Halt!" Lauren had expected that much. These guardians were tall, imposing men, dressed in black and white velvet with face-obscuring helms that reached upward in a line of white feathers. They carried black, intricately decorated shields and spears, that were now pointed at them. "What is the meaning of this? You may only pass if you have received a summons!"

"It is imperative that Lauren, Hound, and I are granted counsel with the King. There is no time to waste."

"I will let you pass, Narthas, and you alone." Lauren surmised that the elf was a frequent visitor, or at least frequent enough to merit familiarity between him and the Fountain Guard.

Narthas shook his head. "There is no time! Minas Tirith is due to be attacked, and the city must be evacuated!"

The guard seemed thrown by the information, and hesitated to speak. "You speak of a new threat, even though the war is over?"

Hound spoke. "A threat that will destroy this city before you get the chance to run. Now will you take us to your King or not?"

The fountain guards looked at each other, their composure and confidence failing.

"Well?"

"Go, if you must."

They dashed past them. Up the road and finally they'd reached the summit of the city, the Citadel. Lauren would have liked to take the time to admire the beauty of the flowering white tree, or the Tower of Ecthelion, reaching up to pierce the sky. But she couldn't, and so continued to jog up the steps with Narthas, Hound, Avrinod, Gedhorn, and one of the guards. When they halted in front of the main door, he asked that they be let in. The great doors were drawn wide for them, revealing the interior of the court of Gondor. Cautiously, they passed inside, escorted by two more guards.

Lauren looked up around her. The space was carved from white stone or marble with tiled floors boasting intricate patterns of black. The space was very large, with vaulted ceilings upwards of three stories tall. Windows high in the walls filled the cavernous room with light.

Narthas stormed forward to the empty throne towards one of the caretakers. His steps echoed around the walls and pillars like rain. "Where is King Elessar?" he demanded. The nearest caretaker was an older man in spartan, yet lordly, dress. His eyes widened and he took a step back when the Elf started at him.

"What is this? Get that beast out of here!"

Now that room permitted, Hound transformed again. The caretaker let out a yelp and cowered, while the other jumped up and ran into the chambers behind the throne.

"Wh-what..." he stuttered, staring up at the 16-foot tall Autobot.

The entire group jumped, startled, when a voice sounded from behind the throne. "Who is disrupting the order in my court?" is bellowed.

"Aragorn," Narthas whispered.

The King of Gondor himself appeared. His presence filled the room, and his aura dripped with authority, demanding the respect he deserved. Now under normal circumstances, Lauren imagined that his countenance was kinder, softer. But right now his eyes were aflame, but his face was sheet white as soon as said flaming eyes set themselves upon the giant robot standing before the throne.

"What... is going on here?" he said in a quiet voice. He glanced at every face, but soon settled upon the Elf.

"Narthas, what is this creature?"

"This is the girl," he replied, gesturing to Lauren. "That the sons of Elrond arrested yesterday." Aragorn looked at her with scrutiny. "And this," Narthas gestured here to Hound. "Is the wild cat that assaulted them in Emyn Arnen."

"Am I safe to assume that this is no ordinary beast?"

Narthas chuckled. "He is no beast at all."

Lauren stepped forward. "My lord, you may find this terribly difficult to swallow, but there will be an attack on this city very soon, and there is nothing that the armies of Gondor can do to fight it."

"An attack?" he exclaimed. "By who? All of the enemies of this country were beaten in the war! We have made amends with the Haradrim and Black Numenorians of the south, and the Easterlings are too few to mount an attack. And the Dark Lord of course was returned to the void where he belongs."

"The assault will not come from any people that dwell in Middle-earth." Aragorn was shocked into silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "Have you heard rumors about strange people out in the wild, sir."

"Yes, here and there over the past few years."

Good, good. He would be able to understand it after all.

"Those people are not of this world. They come from other lands among the stars, and they have come here to mine every vein of Mithril Arda has to offer."

"Stars? Mithril?"

Hound broke in, and Aragorn jumped when the Autobot began to speak in his processed voice. "There is a war going on, lord. Evil factions from other worlds have banded together, are are using this world for it's resources to fuel that war. They have been here, hiding, for years, but their presence started gain attention from people who knew how to recognize them. The people of my home have been fighting this group for millennia, and over the past few years we noticed a strange decline in their activity. And so, we searched them out across the galaxy, stumbling across another planet called Coruscant. We've allied ourselves with people there, as they've been fighting an ongoing war against their enemies. As it turns out, both Decepticons and those of the Sith Order have banded together to conquer the known worlds, and Middle-earth is just one stepping stone in attaining that goal. If they win, everyone loses."

Aragorn was silent, and during the course of Hound's short tale, several of his attendants and personal guards approached to listen. Lauren realized just how ridiculous it really was. After thousands of years fighting against Sauron, there was now this. A completely different threat, almost incomprehensible, now faced these people. Those disgusting bad guys have been infiltrating Middle-earth ever since Tolkien's universe was opened up to the dead, long before Lauren arrived, and the situation were just now coming to a head.

"The thing is, sire, they know where we are now. They know that Hound and two other Autobots are here, and they know Narthas and I are here in the city as well. As far as we know, they 're probably aware of the Underground too, and that's why they want to level the city." Lauren turned to Narthas. "If they know about Fen's gate, they'll definitely want to destroy it to prevent any Jedi from coming in."

Aragorn eyed her. "I do not understand. What is this Udnerground?"

Lauren inhaled sharply, pausing until Narthas nodded his head at her. It was time to completely blow their cover.

"Sir," Lauren began, voice quaking. "There are spirits of the dead living among the people of Middle-earth, and have been since the beginning of the Fourth Age."

Whispers rose up from the group gathered behind their king.

The girl continued. "And I'm one of them. My people come from another world that's far from this one. I was mortal in that world, and when I died, I was given a chance at immortality if I lived out the rest of time in other places, like this one. There are many more people like me here, and we're sworn to secrecy. Unfortunately, I don't think we can remain secret much longer now."

The king massaged the bridge of his nose between his eyes, which were shut tightly. TMI? "We will sit later, when you and Narthas will explain in grueling detail to me what this is about. But for now, I am afraid that we must focus on the safety of the people of Minas Tirith." He straightened up and set his jaw. "If we are to be besieged, then tell me what can be done to win this battle."

"There is nothing your people can do." Hound shook his head.

"These enemies are too powerful to be contained by the forces of Gondor. Your armies will be obliterated with a single blow," Narthas said in a dark tone. "Even the power of the Dark Lord cannot be compared to these soldiers by any means."

"Then what can be done! I will not let this age of peace be swept away so quickly."

"The city must be evacuated, lord. Send them to Ithilien. They will be safe there while we defend Minas Tirith."

"Who?" he demanded, almost angrily. "An elf, girl, and some otherworldly creature?"

"There are two others like him, Elessar. They will be here soon, and Hound can call for more. With their aid, and a bit of luck, the invaders will be beaten back, and then we can plan our next course of action to drive them out of Middle-earth for good."

Hound had taken to kneeling so as to be more at their level. "Gasket has already sent out a call for more soldiers to help in the effort here," he informed them.

Aragorn considered all this. "While it seems that evacuation is the wisest course of action, I will remain here to defend this city so long as I still draw breath."

"Lord," Narthas broke in. "I would suggest that you, too, find safety elsewhere-"

"No. I will not have strangers defend my people in my stead."

The elf shook his head. "If you so will it, lord."

There was a tremendous pause among the group then, before Aragorn suddenly whirled around to address his men. "Esgalion, fetch the Lady Arwen and tell her to meet me in my study. Tarcalion, and Arhir, summon the sons of Elrond immediately. And Mithromen... alert the guard to my order. Minas Tirith must be abandoned."

"Yes, my lord."

"I must take my leave now, Narthas, Lauren, Hound... Avrinod and Gedhorn. There is much to be done now. If you should like to be outfitted in attire more appropriate for war, Dranadin will escort you to the armory now." Aragorn whirled around in a flurry of velvet and voices, returning to some chamber in the halls behind the throne, his advisors crowding around him like bees on a piece of meat.

The man named Dranadin, a man of average height and lean frame with short, dark hair, motioned for the group to follow. "The armory is this way," he said in a soft voice.

Lauren watched as Hound transformed back into the wildcat, and followed the group off into hallway off to the side.

"So who's coming?" Lauren whispered to Hound. She was brimming with excitement and anxiety.

"I don't know," he replied in an equally quiet voice. "But I sure hope they've got some serious firepower."


	18. On the Attack of Minas Tirith

Chapter Eighteen:

_**"Of the Attack on Minas Tirith"**_

Lauren partially expected to see the armory brimming with soldiers as they scurried to suit up and arm themselves for the oncoming attack. But she saw as they stepped over the threshold of the low building that it was nearly empty, and she was reminded once again that no matter now thick their armor, or how sharp their swords, the people of Middle-earth could do nothing against an assault from giant robots from outer space.

"If anything," Lauren said to break the silence that had hold of the room. "I'd suggest that we use mostly padding seeing as plate mail won't do much against lightsabers or guns. We'll be getting thrown around more than directly hit, I think."

Narthas had on a padded surcoat with a shirt of maille over that, and was halfway through with slipping on a breastplate that probably weighed a good ten pounds or so. He paused. "You're probably right," he said before removing it and searching for the store of leather armor.

"I'll be right back," Hound said. "Airlock's here."

Lauren looked up from strapping on a pair of plated leather greaves as the cat dashed out the door. "Oh, good." Then louder: "See if he can fit through the door!"

"So you two will be fighting by our side, I see?" the elf asked of the guards who had escorted them out of the jail.

Gedhorn nodded. "We are."

Narthas smiled at them. "I'm honored by your bravery."

"Well," Avrinod chuckled. "Is it not our duty to keep the people of this city safe?"

"Ah, but isn't it more than just that?" Narthas slipped on a pair of leather gloves and over them, vambraces strapped to his forearms.

"Well, if the story that you three tell is indeed true, then I should like to have my revenge upon those who seek to steal from our land like we are naught more than insects."

"Heh. I wish to exact my revenge on the people who think it's perfectly fine to invade other worlds because they want to take over the galaxy," Lauren butt in.

"But what of you?" Avrinod asked. "You said yourself that you are among the living dead in Middle-earth, and that you come from another world. Are you and your kind not invaders also?"

"Well, the difference is that my kind are people who wanted to live in Middle-earth in peace. We didn't want to disrupt your life here. These invaders... most, if not all of them, are not reincarnated dead. This is the life that they know because it is the only one they've lived, and therefore they have no concern for anything else other than their own cause."

Avrinod nodded in understanding. Just then, Hound reappeared again, though this time Airlock was beside him. The two guards started.

"Guys, this is Airlock." Lauren gestured to the avian-disguised robot.

"Augh," he said, transforming before their eyes. "I need a rest from that mode."

Airlock was not quite as big as Hound, and in fact, was able to stand relatively erect in the armory, putting him at about eleven or twelve feet tall. However, he promptly sat down and became eye-level with everyone else.

"Any word from Optimus?" Hound asked.

Airlock nodded his head. "Yep. Reinforcements are en route: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Mirage, Prowl, Ratchet, Brawn, Jazz, and the big guy himself."

"Wow, well at least we got the 'serious firepower' you were hoping for." She suddenly winced. "But isn't Sunstreaker? Isn't he a little... uhm... violent?"

Airlock made a sound that was suspiciously similar to a sharp inhale. "Well... yes. He is. But we need someone like that, you know?"

"And doesn't he have a hard time getting along with anyone that isn't his brother?"

Hound bobbed his head from side to side. "That's mostly true, but when circumstances call for it, he can be a team player."

"Good," Lauren said, nodding. "We can't afford for arguments to arise within our own... group thing. Internal conflicts would kill this resistance."

Narthas walked over to the conversation. "I completely agree," he said, then suddenly a scowl crept across his face. "And I know from experience." Lauren knew exactly what he was thinking of: his father's betrayal of Gondolin.

"May I be so bold as to ask how it is you intend on protecting yourself if you do not use weapons that we can conceive of?" Avrinod had stepped over to Airlock and was appraising his complex robotic anatomy.

"Hound here didn't show you?" The robot held up his hand in front of the guard's face and in a moment, the parts rearranged themselves and formed a double-barreled canon. It glowed a dangerous orange inside and made a pulsing, humming noise. Avrinod and Gedhorn were enthralled by the strange thing.

"And... you bludgeon your enemies with this?"

Airlock laughed. "No, I shoot them. It's a plasma cannon."

"You know, projectiles," Lauren broke in. "Except... it's a lot like balls of lava or liquid fire, and they generally explode on contact."

Avrinod stepped back when the bot put his weapon away, his eyes wide. "Ah... there are many questions on my tongue concerning your otherworldly friends, but there is no time for them now. If we are lucky, I will ask them when all is said and done."

Lauren sheathed her sword and turned her attention to the open door. Curiosity getting the best of her, she meandered outside and found herself standing on the edge of the tier, looking down over the city. It was an eerie sight, to say the least. A dull, distant clamor met her ears from where she stood. And about a quarter of a mile away, she saw crowds streaming out of the front gate into the Rammas Echor. After a few moments of solitude, she was joined by Narthas and Hound. She saw the elf out of the corner or her eye, and heard the mech's distinctly heavy footsteps and mechanical sounds as his legs lifted up his feet and set them down again.

Narthas shook his head as he gazed down at the crowds fleeing the city in the fading light. Evening was falling fast. "I have seen only one thing like this in my long life, and not here in Middle-earth."

"If I recall correctly, Edoras was evacuated during the war, but it's not nearly as populated or as big as Minas Tirith."

"Oh, no of course not. Last I heard, the city was home to some fifty thousand people."

"And the majority of the armies will be gone too, right?

The elf sighed and nodded. "In all honesty, I don't even know how _we_ will be of any help..."

"Nonsense," Hound broke in. "We need all the help we can get. Besides... wasn't it Lauren who deactivated that Sith on our way here?"

The two fleshlings considered this. "You've got a point."

"So Hound," Lauren said, remaining turned towards the view of the city. "Is Optimus really coming?"

He stepped up to her other side, watching as throngs of people disappeared in the distance, heading north to Osgiliath and beyond. "He sure is."

Little tremors of excitement caused a fangirlish grin to creep onto her face. "Is he... really like how the fans know him? The brave, epic leader that we all know and love?"

Hound laughed. "Most of what you kids know about him is entirely true."

Lauren, grin having burst open into a full-fledged smile, tugged on Narthas' sleeve. "Oh man, dude. You're in for a treat. **Optimus Prime** is going to fight with us!"

The elf blinked. "Who's Optimus Prime?"

"Oh my god. He's only the coolest, most badass leader of any military faction ever?" She heard Hound -giggling?- to himself in the background.

"Really," he said. Her enthusiasm was met with raised eyebrows. "Well, if this Optimus Prime can help us win this fight and kick these bad guys off my planet for good, _then_ I'll agree with you."

The girl huffed, setting her jaw. She turned back to her mech friend with arms folded. "Hound, he doesn't believe us."

"Oh, I'm sure Prime will be able to prove himself to Narthas with little difficulty," he said, smiling.

Narthas turned from the view, leaning against the wall. "Alright, alright. What's the ETA of your reinforcements, Hound?"

"Possibly some time in the night," was the reply. "If I recall correctly, the planet where Prime's small unit was investigating is not incredibly far from here. Closer than Coruscant, at least. Gasket, Airlock, and I came directly from Cybertron, which took us a while. Mirage and Prowl should be on their way from Earth 2 as we speak."

Lauren perked up. "Earth 2?"

"Well, for the longest time we believed the planet several Autobot units were occupying was in fact Earth, but it's not the case. As we've come to understand, with every universe that involves Earth in some form, it is not in fact the same Earth that you came from, but a copy similar to something from a parallel-universe. The real Earth is impossible to get into as far as we know."

"Yeah, Narthas here says it's impossible to get to the real Earth by conventional means. Did you guys find it or something in your interstellar travels?" She knitted her brows and looked from elf to mech.

"The Decepticons tried a while ago. The Autobots were tricked into thinking we had the upper hand on Cybertron and Earth 2, as the Decepticon populations began to drop and Megatron went missing. Their plan involved brainwashing and decimating huge populations of your people to amass a new army, but they couldn't even penetrate Earth's atmosphere without getting blown to dust and scrap. And so, I guess, that's when they discovered this planet... unfortunately, the Autobots were always a step behind, and you've already paid for it."

Lauren turned then to Narthas, who was deep in thought. She narrowed her eyes at him. "God forbid anyone finds a way to get to the real Earth," she said, paying careful attention to articulate every single syllable.

The elf cleared his throat. "It would certainly spell disaster," he mumbled.

An awkward silence followed before Hound broke it. "Is... there something I should know about?"

The girl huffed. "No, Big N here's just had a few fuck-ups in the not-so-distant past. If it proves to be an issue at all, then I'll be sure to let you know."

Narthas cleared his throat again, looking back to the people evacuating. Lauren suspected someone was about to say something, but she heard Airlock off to her left, talking to Avrinod and Gedhorn.

"...no, it doesn't hurt at all," the short mech said. The two men followed, listening carefully.

"What is your range?" Gedhorn asked.

"Uhm... I'm not too sure. Pretty far, though. Let's see." The group of three walked past Lauren, Narthas, and Hound over to a different terrace facing south-west. Lauren watched. Airlock stepped up to the wall and took aim at an empty patch of sky. With a sound she really couldn't describe other than loud and deep, the mech shot out a bright orange-yellow ball of energy that was lost in the distance a half-second later. The two soldiers looked on in amazement, trying to espy where gravity should have inevitably brought the projectile down, but it was to no avail.

"And if it meets no resistance, then it will go on forever?" Avrinod asked.

"Well, no," Airlock laughed. "Not only is air enough resistance to slow it down after a while, but the energy dissipates until it's reduced to nothing."

Lauren turned back to her friend when a thought suddenly sprang to mind. "Hey Narthas," she asked. "What happened to Fen? Did he ever come back?"

"Oh, by the Valar!" he cursed, smacking himself on the forehead. "It completely slipped my mind!"

"Because he was supposed to be negotiating with the Jedi Council for the loan of a few knights?"

"That's right, that's right, that's right. Er... how long ago was that... a few days. Hm."

"I really don't think there's anything we can do about it now... the Underground is probably completely abandoned and locked up... and Fen's portal is hidden behind what appears to be a blast-proof door."

"Damn it," the elf breathed. "There's nothing we can do about him now other than hope and wait."

Lauren cracked her knuckles. The sound caused Narthas to wince. "Fuck! We're going to lose this battle if we're going to be fighting Sith. They're going to laugh as they hold us up in the air while Starscream fires missiles at us and blasts us to kingdom come."

"Look," Narthas said firmly. "We're going to give this our best shot, got it? The cards have been dealt, and now we're going to play the hand we've been given."

The girl scowled, though not so much at him.

"Take it easy, man," Airlock said. "Cut her just a little slack. She's pretty new to this compared to the rest of us, and besides... her predictions aren't going to be too far off if we don't get some shock troops in here with us."

The elf wiped his face, paying careful attention to the delicate skin around his eyes. "Lauren, I'm sorry. It's just... you just need to understand what is going on here. I know you've really matured over the past month, but..."

"I know what you're trying to say," she said, holding her hand up to cut him off. "And trust me... I am worried." She then turned to get a good look at the group- each and every one of them. "I'm worried about _you_ guys. Because when you die, there's no telling where you'll get whisked off to. As for me, I'll take longer to kill, and when I die, there's a chance I can end right back up in the battle where I left off. But once one of you goes, it's over as far as anyone knows." Her words were direct and lacking any sort of womanish sympathy.

"She does have a point," Hound said.

"And I guess it's bad luck or something to be pessimistic before a battle, but... we really need to have a good, long look at our odds here." Her eyes settled on everyone in turn. "I know we've got more Autobots coming, but if they're sending Sith, and Fen doesn't come back in time, we'll all be dead. The city will be completely destroyed, the portal along with it, and any chance whatsoever of getting Corscanti soldiers in here will be all but gone."

It was a long silence, made all the more grim from the absence of noise from life in the city. After a while, Hound began to shake his head.

"Don't bother me with odds, Lo. I'll make my stand here regardless of the facts. If Decepticons aim to turn me into scrap, why, they'll have to do it taking shots to the face!" He looked down at her with a devilish grin on his mechanical visage, and the expression was contagious. Lauren found herself grinning too.

"Seconded!" Airlock shouted. "Win or lose, those miserable machines will be in a world of pain by the end, if I have anything to say about it!"

"Fuck yeah!" Lauren said, lowering her voice to a comical tone. "I'm gonna fuck up those bitches, rape 'em, and eat their goddamn costumes, 'cause I'm the Juggernaut, _bitch!_"

Her warcry was met with raised eyebrows and silence.

The girl folded her arms across her chest and scanned the faces of those around her. "Oh my god, how do you people live without the internet?"

Narthas and the two robots burst into laughter. "You are one crazy little human," Hound said. "C'mon, we should get to discussing a few defense tactics." He stooped down with his hand open and low to the ground. Lauren looked at him, trying to figure out what he was trying to do, when it occurred to her that he intended on picking her up. Stepping into his hand, he raised her up to his shoulder, where she took a -relatively- comfortable seat.

"Ah!" Avrinod said. "Defense. Now that is something that I recognize and know something about. Would you prefer, steel warriors, if we discussed such things out here so that you do not have to burden yourselves with getting in and out the door?"

"Let us fetch a table," suggested Gedhorn. His companion agreed, and the two of them disappeared inside the armory for a few moments before emerging with a rather large wooden table. Hound and Airlock insisted on carrying it once the Gondorians brought it to the threshold, and with little effort at all, the mechs had set it down on the grass outside the door.

Pinned down on it's worn surface was a huge, old map of Minas Tirith. Narthas, armed with a stick of charcoal in one hand, circled the table, carefully studying the map, before settling on one vantage point. "We," he announced, marking an X on the paper. "Are here. The jail is here... and the Underground is here. The mines are a good two hundred miles west... which is his way. Where are your men coming in, Hound?"

"Their landing should be south," he said, circling with a large finger over Near Harad and South Ithilien. "Around here. They won't be assuming other alternate modes before the battle, so it should not take too long for them to get here. Airlock," Hound said, turning to look at his diminutive comrade. "I want you to go find Gasket and make sure he's alright."

"Got it." Lauren watched as he bounded off toward the edge of the tier -the same spot where he'd shown off for the two guards moments before- and leapt off the edge. The girl let out a gasp as he fell downward, out of sight, but in no time, a giant eagle reappeared, flying off in a westerly direction.

She looked down from her perch atop the mech's shoulder down at the map, but voices from behind caught her attention.

"So this is it, is it?"

Hound turned around, as did everyone else, to see Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, and perhaps a dozen members of his personal guard. If she recalled correctly, it was Elladan who was speaking. There was a mild scowl etched in his face, and his hands, balled into loose fists, rested on his hips.

"Carrying on with a briefing without us, I see," the king said. Hound and Narthas stepped aside to allow for the group a better view of the map. Everyone fell silent as Aragorn looked at it for a moment before straightening up again. "Where are your stations? Positions?" He turned to Narthas. "I always knew you were a crafty fellow, but has it really been so long since you've fought in battle as to forget how to plan a defense?"

Narthas eyed him before letting a smile creep over his face as he handed over the charcoal.

Aragorn smirked as he took it, turning his attention back to the map. "How many men do we have?" he asked no one in particular. Everyone started to count.

"I'd say 20, sir," Lauren burst out.

"And how many are we up against?"

"Not too sure," Hound said. "There's a good chance they've underestimated us though. I recommend that you humans stay out of the way unless they bring other fleshies with them."

The girl nodded. "Good recommendation."

Aragorn looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

Hound shrugged, and Lauren almost lost her balance as a result. "Am I right in saying that your weapons will do no good against the others like me?"

The Dunedain waved his hand dismissively. "No, I understand that."

"Oh," the Autobot said. "Right, the other fleshlings. I won't be surprised- actually, I expect there to be a number of Sith and mutants with them. If there are, I would actually like you to try and hold them back while my group takes care of the Seekers."

Narthas broke in. "You and your men need to be exceptionally careful with Sith. They have powers of the likes you've never seen before, Elessar. With a wave of their hand they can lift you high into the air and toss you aside like nothing. The only way that we can possibly even get near enough to land a blow is by surprise, or to come up from behind, but as they seem to know what goes on around them much of the time, it will no easy task."

"They cannot be overcome by force?" One of the twins spoke up.

Narthas shook his head. "Not even our 'steel warriors' could strike unless they were wholly occupied by some other thing."

Elladan, Elrohir, the King, and his men fell into a '_well, we're screwed' _silence.

"Then we will be sure to distract them," Aragorn said at length. "Malhion, fetch lanterns. Night will soon be upon us."

"Yes, sir." One of the guard darted into the armory.

"Now," the king continued. "It is one of my chief goals to protect the Citadel and the Tower as much as I may, so a unit should be placed on the fourth level, and perhaps another on the second, with a majority of the men on the former if we are to be taken by air."

"Airlock here will alert Optimus as to our stations on the fourth level," Hound said, nodding at his fellow mech.

Lauren peered around Hound's head to look at Aragorn. "So are the entire city and surrounding districts abandoned now?"

"I suspect they will be very soon now. The entire guard has been ordered to sweep every corner of Minas Tirith as they, too, flee. I expect, though, there still will be some who refuse to leave."

The girl nodded, but suddenly, her Autobot jerked his head up toward the western sky, and from the edge of her field of vision, she saw Airlock do the same. "Did you get that?" the larger of the two said. The group fell silent, straining to hear, but Lauren knew it was in vain because neither Elf nor Human could hear radio frequencies. Hound made a frustrated sound. "All right guys, this is the moment of truth. Lauren, Narthas, Elladan, Elrohir, Airlock and I will take the fourth level. The rest of you take the second."

Narthas appended the order. "Remember to only fight foes your size, and if they wield glowing weapons, distract them and strike from behind. If they do not, then... they are of the kind that tried to usurp the throne of Rohan. They might prove to be an easier enemy, but show them the same mercy as you would the others: none at all. We have no need for prisoners."

"All right, kids," Lauren said, drawing her sword. "Let's move."

Hound beckoned her to climb down from her perch, and he transformed. "You and Narthas," he said once complete in his alternate form. "Come on."

The two climbed aboard and they bounded down two tiers to reach their position on the fourth, provided with fantastic cover from the great big outcropping that divided the city in half. (Lauren could have sworn it had a name, as all things did in Middle-earth, but she didn't have the mind to try and remember it at the moment.) A few minutes passed before the second group, led by Aragorn, passed them on their way down to the second tier of the city. Elladan, Elrohir and Airlock remained with them.

"What was it that you heard?" One of the Elves inquired darkly. "For my ears, as sharp as they might be, caught nothing."

"It's beyond your sense of hearing," said Hound. "And it was in a language you wouldn't understand on top of that."

The sun had gone down, and night was officially upon them. It was extremely eerie, having such a monumental structure normally bustling with so much life be dark and silent. For this reason she could barely see Elrohir's expression when the Autobot answered.

Lauren was pacing back and forth keeping her eyes trained on the western portion of the sky, even though she knew Hound and Airlock would be able to detect the incoming attack before she ever would. The silence had considerable weight to it, only adding to the the idea of Minas Tirith being a ghost town. Behind her she heard mechanical sounds, and so turned to see Hound brandishing his weapon. The orange glow from inside the barrel of the gun faintly illuminated the ground.

"How far away are they, Hound," Narthas asked in a low voice. There was both apprehension and determination in the tone.

The mech turned to his friend. "Airlock?"

The smaller Autobot thought for a moment. "Since their last transmission, I'd say they were 90 miles out."

Hound turned back to the west, and his eyes brightened in determination. "Any minute now."

Airlock leapt up onto a wall and nimbly scaled a building, crouching down when he reached the top. "I'd give 'em a breem, Hound."

Elladan looked up. "You would give them what?"

"A breem," the Autobot replied. "About 8 minutes and change." The Elves nodded. "And our reinforcements are, unfortunately, a little farther away than that."

"When will they land?" Narthas asked with unease.

"About 25 minutes until planetfall," he estimated. "All right guys, this would be an opportune time to get into some choice positions..."

Narthas nodded. "The four of us on the other side of the rock, you two on this side. Elladan and Elrohir, you stay together, and Lauren and I will."

Hound nodded. "Sounds good."

The four fleshlings dashed down the empty road in the dark. They passed through a tunnel bored into the stone precipice, normally lit by sconces in the ornately carved walls, and popped out on the other side. She and Narthas positioned themselves on one side of the tunnel, and the Twins on the adjacent. They had their backs to the wall.

"Are you going to be all right?" her Elven companion whispered.

Lauren nodded with resolution. "Well, so far I've killed 4 orcs and a Sith Master. Not too different, right?" She chuckled nervously. "I'm only a little terrified."

He considered this. "Yes, well..."

"Have you ever seen a fighter jet before?" She looked up at him as he shook his head.

A smile spread across her face. "You're in for a treat. They're actually really neat when they're not firing at you."

Narthas just sighed and mussed her hair. "We'll stay out of their way then, won't we?"

"That was the plan, yes."

There was a hefty pause.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"Look, nothing will pry me away from this fight." She shot him a look that screamed of 'no bullshit'. "Not even dying again."

The Elf beamed like a parent, proud and sad all at once, before administering a good, strong hug. "That's a promise that I can't even make."

Lauren laughed. "I'd rather not test that theory."

The next few minutes seemed to take an eternity to pass. The city was dead silent as they listened for something, anything, marking the beginning of the assault. It was an anxious lull that was so terrible it almost seemed to cause the girl physical pain. Her breathing and heart rate quickened considerably, and she could feel her hands, though unmoving they were, grow cold and clammy in the warm night air. Strangely enough though, very few thoughts scampered through her brain at all; it was an amassing sense of terror that stiffened her joints and emptied her mind. She was able to liken it to the state of mind just prior to an invasive surgery...

Lauren hadn't realized her eyes were shut tight until Hound's voice made them shoot open: "I see them! 5 miles out."

She desperately wanted to peek around and see the jets and ships that were closing in on them at about 600 MPH, but she didn't want to risk being seen. Not yet, at least. She also didn't want to risk shitting any bricks.

It was two seconds later that she heard them. Two jets... two Seekers, and another ship... slower, slightly more lumbering. Probably a dropship, and carrying passengers that the four fleshies were meant to dispose of.

"Incoming!" Airlock shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of Starscream's engines. The elves let out a startled cry and covered their ears. Lauren did the same, and the two aircraft flew overhead, then split up and turned around. They opened fire on the city.

Narthas turned toward the twins despite the escalating chaos. "Hold your positions!" he yelled over the din.

She could hear shots being exchanged on the other side of the rock. She saw a faint flash of light when the sound of the third jet joined them. One of the Decepticons zoomed on past them, with a new, smaller craft following behind. "Come on, you slaggin' coward!" she heard Airlock call out as he fired at the plane. Where was Starscream? Sounds of a physical scuffle from the other half of the city answered her question, but a cry of pain and a loud crash from Hound presented her with another.

"I'm going out there," she said to Narthas. He was about to say something, but she didn't listen. "Stay here until I give you a signal to move in. Got it?" The elf knitted his brows, but after a moment, he nodded. Lauren peeked around the tunnel to see Hound on the ground. A well of anger rose in her chest, but she swallowed it and crept around the corner, careful to remain hidden for as long as possible. As she sneaked through the tunnel, hugging the wall, she saw him being lifted into the air by a character robed in black, a sinister grin on his face.

A Sith.

"Your attempts to foil our operation were futile, pathetic Autobot!" she heard the distantly familiar voice of Starscream pierce through the night. "You three," he commanded to an unseen group. "Search for the others. I know they are here." Lauren's throat constricted with a renewed sense of fear. Turning around, she waved frantically at her fellows waiting at the other end. "Megatron wants the girl and her other fleshling companion alive... kill the rest!" Another roar from above reminded her of the dogfight going on between Airlock and his flying foe.

"I think," she whispered to Narthas when the elves joined her. "Mutants. We need to charge."

Breathing heavily, Narthas nodded his head, keeping his eyes trained on the other end of the tunnel. "Let's go."

The four of them rushed through the corridor, weapons drawn, hoping to make a scene long enough to distract the Sith that was holding up the Autobot. Starscream was taking aim just as they broke through to the other side, and Hound was dropped. He came crashing down into a building, sending stone and debris flying everywhere.

"Ah, there they are!" the Decepticon announced. "Take care of them!"

The three individuals he'd addressed earlier stepped forward. The girl and three seasoned warriors hesitated for a moment, wondering just how dangerous this group would be: two guys and one girl.

"Hound!" Lauren called out to the bot as he rose from the stone rubble.

"Don't worry about me! You just worry- augh!" he narrowly missed being shot by Starscream here. "...about turning those three into scrap!"

The girl forced herself to ignore the two mechs fight. Plasma fire collided with stone, turning the fourth tier of Minas Tirith into a crumbling white mess. These guys had fucking hell to pay...

Holding her sword in both hands, Lauren prepared herself as the three empowered humans came at them. It helped only a little knowing her blade had drawn blood 5 times before, but who knew... maybe luck would be on her side tonight.

As the female of the group faded to a state of invisibility with a cackle, Lauren had to reconsider her last thought. One of the men pounded his fists together as the skin on them combusted and hardened into something akin to stone: "Megatron's gonna pay us big time for your scrawny heads!" The last one, tall and lanky, merely stood where he was, enveloped in an air of calm collectedness.

Elladan charged at the fire-fisted mutant, sending sparks and embers flying in their duel.

"_Elrohir!_" Narthas commanded."_Narca ho! _Lauren and I will take care of that woman."

The girl, who was on her guard the entire time, allowed herself to get distracted momentarily by the sound of Airlock's Seeker crashing, half-transformed, into the rock precipice just long enough to get knocked to the ground. Narthas lunged at where the invisible enemy might have been and gave a mighty swing, but he hit nothing. Lauren picked herself up just in time to be lifted from the ground, along with Narthas, high into the air by an unseen force. Or, _The_ Force, rather. They were maneuvered out and over the wall, leaving a rather impressive 100 feet below them. Lauren couldn't help but begin to hyperventilate. In a poor attempt to ignore the distance she could fall, she watched as Hound and Starscream continued to duke it out. Both bots looked to be in moderate disrepair by now, but a quick glance to her right told her that the Seeker, whoever it was, had been temporarily rendered inactive. Elladan appeared to be at a disadvantage now, as his sword lay broken in half and on the ground as the invisible mutant held him while the other slugged him in the gut continuously. She could espy that his clothes were burned away on the stomach and he was nearing unconsciousness.

"N-narthas," Lauren said with audible difficulty. "This is a bad, bad situation."

"I... I know."

"I might vomit."

"I won't hold it against you if you do."

Just then, a large figure emerged from the tunnel, and two riders leapt off. One that she recognized as Gedhorn lunged at Mr. Fists of Fire, catching him by surprise, and hewed at his neck. The blond-crowned head, almost severed, fell to the side as the massive body collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood. Elladan fell as well, suffering severe burns wherever the mutant had slugged him.

Before she knew it, the black shape had transformed into the familiar form of Gasket, holding up his arm cannon at a very angry Starscream. Just as he and Hound began to close in on the jet, though, he cried out: "Stop! Attack me, and your friends will fall to their deaths!" With a large, mechanical finger, he pointed straight at Narthas and Lauren, floating precariously over the tier below. The scene fell silent as both Autobots paused and turned to look their way.

Now, the girl had to make a very difficult decision here. Both options she was considering were not satisfactory in the very least, but something had to be done. She wouldn't let the bad guys win.

"Kill them!" she shouted down. "Forget about us!" The two bots still hesitated. "**Just do it!**"

And with that, the two of them opened fire on Starscream. He cried out and leapt up to transform, with one last command: "Skywarp!" he yelled. "Take the two of them to the mines!"

Just then, a fighter jet, black and purple, appeared beneath the floating pair. It took all of Lauren's self-control not to puke on herself out of fear now. "Airlock!" she shrieked desperately. "Shit! Fucking help us!" The cockpit opened beneath as the jet slowly rose to meet them. The robot inside laughed maliciously as Lauren scrambled in the air to try and get somewhere, anywhere but where she was, but it was to no avail. The Sith that were holding them here had a fierce grip.

"Lauren!" Narthas commanded. "Stop it! Just stop, you're wasting your energy! It's no use."

What was going on below? Lauren wasn't paying attention. She heard shots, she heard shouting. Time had slowed as the black cockpit of the fighter jet came up to meet them, and it seemed a few things happened at once. For one, Airlock came zooming around, firing missiles at Skywarp, hitting one of his wings just as Hound leapt off the wall of the tier and landed on the the Seeker's back, kicking off the cockpit hatch. Skywarp cried out in agony and began to fall away. Airlock flew beneath Lauren and Narthas close enough for them to grab onto his wings and fly them back down, where they were promptly greeted by heavy fire.

"Get Elladan and Gedhorn out of here!" Narthas shouted to Avrinod and Elrohir. Their two comrades, badly wounded, lay on the ground near their fallen enemies. Lauren helped drag the two of them into the tunnel as Starscream and a revitalized Seeker (Lauren at this point guessed it was Thundercracker) hailed plasma shots at them, sending stone flying everywhere.

Just then, she heard Gasket cry out in pain as Starscream landed a particularly heavy shot on him, knocking the Autobot to the ground. Hound attempted to provide cover fire, but the Sith prevented that. One of them got hold of Gasket, and with a mighty sweep of his arms, he sent the mech flying off the wall, taking a huge pile of debris with him as he careened to the ground of the third tier.

Lauren's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "**Gasket!**" she screamed. "**No!**" Hound was promptly hurled at the rock precipice. Rage swept over her, very much like it had before in her previous encounter with the Sith; also like that previous encounter, she let it get the best of her and so proceeded to rush the Dark Side practitioner, sword clutched tightly. Before she was able to get very far, however, she was tossed into a pile of rubble as well. Just as she was scrambling to get out before Starscream and Thundercracker blew her to bits, however, she heard the screeching of wheels: just as a driver of a car stomps on his breaks. Looking out over the debris, she saw Aragorn and his men leap off the back of a police car in full force, and beside them, a blue and white Formula-1 racer materialized.

Never had she been so happy to see anyone in her life.

The two vehicles proceeded to transform into their robot mode, and give the two remaining Seekers a run for their money. Hound joined them and Airlock rained missiles down on the small group of Sith, who, despite being able to easily bat the shots away with their ignited sabers, were very keen to get back into their ship.

"They're retreating!" Hound exclaimed. Lauren watched from where she stood as the two fighters and Sith aircraft made their escape, disappearing into the night. Suddenly, all was very quiet again before everyone burst into cheer.

"We did it!"

"We beat back the invaders!"

"Our city is safe again!"

Lauren scrambled out of the troublesome pile to go greet the two new bots. She stopped in front of their feet and gazed up at them in awe.

"Well, it seems we got here just in time," Prowl stated.

Airlock swooped down just then, showing off with a mid-air transformation. "Slag, you sure did. Mirage!" he said, a smile on his face as he turned to the blue mech. "Long time no see?"

"Always glad to see a friend again, 'Lock." Mirage's yellow eyes twinkled as he, too, smiled. "You too, Hound."

Hound smiled warmly and nodded in reply. "Prowl, Mirage... I'd like you to meet our friends," he said. The girl could tell that he'd been damaged pretty badly. "This is Lauren." Once again, he held his hand out and she scrambled onto the familiar place on his shoulder. She felt slightly stupid for some reason, now being under the scrutinizing stares of these two new Autobots.

"This human looks too young to be involved in this," scolded Prowl.

"Lauren's proven herself to be a very capable soldier for her size and level of experience." Hound spoke as though he were used to his fellow's conservative viewpoint.

The girl gave a twitchy grin (she would never grow accustomed to meeting cartoon and comics characters in real life). "Hi," she said, and gave her small salute. To her surprise, Prowl let the corners of his mechanoid mouth up in a very faint smile, and saluted her back. She expected that was as warm a welcome as he would ever give.

"This is Narthas," Hound continued, gesturing to the old Elf standing beside him.

"Hail!" he said. "And welcome to Middle-earth."

He went on: "King Elessar and his men..." but paused here, and looked around. "Avrinod, where's your friend and the twins?"

The man, somehow made aware that he was still clutching his sword, sheathed it again. "Elladan is tending to his brother, and Gedhorn is with them, wounded. He is not nearly as badly injured as the Elf, though, and should pull through with time."

And suddenly, Lauren gasped. "Gasket!" she exclaimed, leaping off the Autobot's shoulder and dashing over to where he'd been thrown from the wall, somehow forgotten for a few moments. Far below she could see a pile of stone where he fell. It looked like a mess of sticks and white pebbles littering a sidewalk, but she knew very well that each paver weighed more than a ton, the splintered beams were made from whole trees, and somewhere in it was a 16-foot comrade facing deactivation if he didn't get help fast.

Before she knew it, the two newcomers had transformed and were on their way down. Airlock grabbed her without warning and leapt from the tier, gliding gracefully down next to where Gasket lay.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed when back on solid ground again. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

All there was to hear was a faint and strained electronic whine as he struggled to get up.

"Hey, hey," Airlock said. "Take it easy. The others'll be here in a second to help you out, and you'll be in Ratchet's medbay sooner than you know it."

The girl turned to the small Autobot just as Prowl and Mirage came revving down the road. "Is he going to be all right?"

The mech nodded. "Of course. He'll be sitting out of any battles in the near future, though."

Prowl and Mirage, the former of whom seemed to be a hair larger than Hound, came to Gasket's aid. They tentatively stepped around the debris to get within arm's reach.. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you out of here." Prowl leaned over to grasp Gasket's arm with visible firmness, and their cloaking friend did so with the other arm.

"Where can we take him?" Mirage asked as they stood him up. He wavered and nearly fell down again (causing Lauren to take two steps back) but their grip proved solid.

"Sixth level," she said, pointing upwards. "Airlock, can you take me back up? I need to talk with Narthas and Aragorn for a bit."

"Sure thing." She made to clamber onto his back, but he grabbed her. "Nuh uh... not unless you want to get burned to a crisp." Right, that's where his single jet engine was. She nodded, and with a mighty, jet-powered leap, they were back on the fourth level just in time to catch the tail end of Narthas' discussion with the King.

"...tell them to make for Osgiliath, where he will find medical assistance there. If Elladan is needed, we can send word in less than an hour."

"Narthas," Lauren broke in, eyebrows knitted in determination. "Sorry to interrupt, but the adrenaline rush hasn't gone away, and there's still shit that needs to be done. C'mon. Let's go pay The Underground a little visit."

Aragorn stormed over to where Lauren was preparing to lead her companion away by the sleeve, and stopped them both short with a hand on their shoulder. "Not until you keep your word and inform me just what in the fires of Orodruin has passed to result in this attack. As King of Gondor, I demand to know all there is to know concerning the safety of this country and it's people."

Lauren and Narthas looked at each other before turning around to face Aragorn. He was right... they'd promised him an explanation if they survived the attack, and as luck would have it, they'd survived the attack.

"Now?"

"Before anything else is done."

"All right."

The three of them began to trek back up to the Citadel, but they were stopped short: "Lauren!" called Hound. "They're coming!"

She turned around. "What?"

"Optimus! Transmission just now said they've broken through the stratosphere and should be planetside in a matter of minutes."

Lauren couldn't help but inhale sharply and clench her hands into fists in attempts to hide her sudden seizure of excitement. Not that the last dregs of adrenaline helped. "Sorry Aragorn, but that meeting is going to have to wait a little longer. Besides... I think Optimus can provide you with a better explanation of the situation than any of us here."

"Lauren, wait!" Narthas ran after her when she bounded off towards Hound and vaulted up onto his shoulder.

"Ouch, careful," he said gently.

"Sorry."

The elf halted beside Lauren and the mech. "Are these the reinforcements you were talking about earlier?"

Hound nodded as he stretched out his arm and pointed at the sky. "Look."

Right before their eyes, a bright orange glow appeared to the south. It was big, slow, and lumbering, it appeared, and also seemed to be getting larger. Everyone in the group stopped what they were doing to watch as what Lauren now knew to be an Autobot _ship_, plummeted toward Minas Tirith.

"That thing have breaks?" she jested.

Hound chuckled. "Of course it does. They should be landing over there, I think, right to the south of that city there on the river."

The light caused by the friction of their atmospheric entry had subsided, leaving a big black mass in the sky. It slowed considerably then, as it descended below the sparse clouds. Before anyone knew it, the spacecraft had landed.

"Are we to meet them?" Aragorn asked. His voice was level despite his eyes as being wide as dinner plates.

Hound looked down at the king, and Lauren could see his face. There was a grin there. "Of course we are. What kind of king doesn't greet his guests?"


	19. On Fashionable Tardiness

Chapter Nineteen:

_**"Of Fashionable Tardiness"**_

A third of Minas Tirith lay in ruin. A third of the fifty thousand people who lived there now had no home; however, none of them could return so long as the city was still in jeopardy.

Four people lay dead. Three of them were the villainous x-men who were supposed to capture the elf and girl. Who were they? Were they dead fans who chose this afterlife? Did they willingly walk the path of servitude and tyranny? The girl suspected she'd never find out.

Lauren and Narthas had taken to riding Hound down the winding road of the city, through Harlond and across the river to where the massive ship rested like some metalloid whale, beached far from the shore: the Autobots inside couldn't have been farther from home than where they were then. Prowl and Mirage followed close behind, with Aragorn and Avrinod riding very uneasily in the cop car.

She couldn't help but get the shakes. This was probably the most exciting -and farfetched- situation that she would ever, ever, find herself in ever. THIS was the adventure she wanted when choosing to come here. And hell, she sure did get it.

"You all right there?" came a voice from inside the faux organic chassis. "Didn't know you had a grip like that."

"Oh..." Lauren blinked and released the scruffy patch of fur behind Hounds neck. "Right, sorry."

"What are you so anxious about anyway?" Narthas asked from behind.

"Well, it's quite a thing to idolize someone for much of your life, knowing you will never have the chance to meet them or anything remotely like them except through your own self-indulgent fantasies, usually in the form of art or writing... and then it's like O HAY WOW WE EXIST NOW AND WERE GONNA COM HELP U SAEV THE WORLD KK? It's like... it's like _you_ meeting Feanor before he went batshit over the Silmarils. You know what I mean?" She looked over her shoulder at him for emphasis.

The elf scowled for a moment. "As horrible as that analogy was, yes. I understand what you're trying to say."

"Good. It's kind of difficult to put into words because the concept of 'fandom' is a somewhat modern invention."

Narthas groaned. "So it seems."

Hound slowed down to a steady trot when they drew nearer to the massive vessel. The girl couldn't help but let her mouth fall open as she looked up at the thing resting in the field, steam and other gases hissing out from various points in the hull; particularly the landing gear.

"Sorry you guys, but I'd like to transform."

"Right." The two immortals slipped off the giant cat's back and stood beside him, watching as he transformed. They were joined by Aragorn, Avrinod, Prowl, and Mirage.

Hound smiled. "Thanks. Can't salute my CO if I don't have hands, right?"

Narthas, though having been around the robots for many days now, seemed mildly uneasy at the prospect of more. He jumped whenever Prowl or Mirage took a step behind them, and as Lauren studied her fellow squishies a bit more, it seemed the most peeved of them all was Aragorn.

But it was her turn to jump. Without warning, a door in front of them cracked open with a shrill hiss. Light, a white-yellow, shot out from under the door as it slid upward, illuminating the small crowd that had gathered near. After her eyes adjusted to the light, she spied a diminutive figure near the door. He was on the bulkier side, and was maybe only nine or ten feet tall. He was painted a nice yellow and green and had a distinctive shape to his head... and his name was on the tip of her tongue.

"Brawn!" greeted Hound, and the two 'bots shook hands when the stout warrior jumped out of the ship and onto solid ground. Prowl and Mirage did the same in turn.

"Glad to be outta that ship," he said with a gruffly mechanized voice before turning to the group of organics. "Who're these guys?" He thumbed in their direction.

"I would appreciate it if your friends didn't keep referring to us in the third person when we're standing right here," Narthas said to Hound.

"That's 'cause some mechs still haven't learned their manners!" said a lively voice from the doorway. They all turned to see a black and white Autobot with a mirror-finish visor hiding his optics. "I'm Jazz," he introduced himself, kneeling down to be more at eye-level with the group. "What's crackin'?"

Lauren fought very hard against the urge to start running around in circles, shrieking and flailing her arms. Unfortunately, this inward struggle against the wave of fangirl was occupying much of her brain activity, and so she was temporarily rendered incapable of coherent speech. A small noise escaped her, however, and it sounded very much like an F followed by many N's, ending with something like a GH.

"You okay?" Narthas asked in a low voice.

The girl swallowed hard and wrung her hands. "Nnnyeah. Just fine. Just fine."

"Hey, I wasn't tryin' to be rude or anything," Brawn replied, folding his arms.

They were interrupted once again by the sound of a mild struggle coming from inside the ship. Suddenly two figures of equal size, one red, the other yellow, came tumbling out of the door. Behind them stood a white Autobot, a red crest on his forehead and cross on his shoulder.

"Stop whining, you two. We've got work to do," Ratchet grumbled.

"Augh," snarled the yellow one as soon as his feet touched the ground. "This planet is disgusting. No wonder the Decepticons are here."

Ratchet stepped out and pointed a finger at him. "I said _can it_, Sunstreaker."

Prowl sighed. "Would you? I don't think any of the humans want to listen to you either."

Mirage, Hound, and Brawn scoffed. Sunstreaker frowned when he looked down at the creatures at his feet. "What, these things?" he said, pointing downward. Both he and Sideswipe began to laugh.

Narthas, Avrinod, and Aragorn suddenly puffed up with anger. Lauren and Airlock held them back.

"That's enough, you two."

The voice silenced the entire group, causing everyone to stop and turn toward the hatch of the ship. There stood the very tallest Autobot Lauren had met yet. She got a very strange taste in her mouth at the sight, very light-headed, and her kneejerk reaction was to take many steps back.

The yellow twin hooted with laughter. "Look, it's scared of the big guy."

"Pfft. Don't tell me that one's fighting with us. If it's going to short circuit from meeting Optimus, I can only imagine how much it malfunctions in a fight--"

Lauren was listening to the twins, but not really. Her eyes were fixed on the truck before them as he scolded his subordinates for a final time.

"If you're scared, kid," Mirage said. "There's no reason to be..."

She shook her head. "Lord Aragorn," she whispered. "You should probably introduce yourself."

The other Autobots took steps back when Optimus crouched down in front of the 4 silent organics. Narthas seemed to be the least fazed out of all of them, though he was still pretty damn fazed. The king of Gondor took a hesitant step nearer to the massive, metallic visage. Aragorn's face was illuminated in the unearthly blue glow of the Autobot leader's optics.

"_Mae govannen_," the Dunedain said. Lauren could hear his voice, though strong, falter somewhat. "I am Aragorn, the Elessar, king of Gondor. I understand that you have come to our aid us against your own foes."

"We are, and I am terribly sorry for what the Decepticons have done to your world. Had we known the source of their energy sooner..."

Narthas shook his head, his stupor gone. "No," he interrupted. The blue spotlights had fallen on him now. "This was probably the best time for you to get here. Well, actually, maybe an hour ago would have been nice, but you understand my point. If you'd arrived any sooner, before Lauren dropped in and found me, then there would have been no way for you to form an alliance with Aragorn. In fact, I don't doubt that he would have sent every man in Gondor's army to lay siege to your ship. Ignoring the exploitation of this country's natural resources, I might even say that the past few weeks have been quite a turn of remarkable events."

Optimus considered this. "You may be right, human."

"Narthas. And I'm Elvish, not Mannish."

"Excuse me."

Suddenly Avrinod, who'd been standing stock-still for the past few minutes, finally gathered the courage to ask: "Who... who are you?"

"I am Optimus Prime." It took every ounce of willpower Lauren could conjure to prevent herself from spontaneously combusting. "Leader of the Autobts." He glanced around here, perhaps looking at the faces of his soldiers, to the land around them, before settling back on the organics. "I must know everything that you know. And we have to hurry. The Decepticons know we're here and will be preparing a counter-attack."

"Wait!" Narthas blurted, holding his hands up. "Before we do any of that, though, you have a comrade that needs medical attention."

Lauren gasped and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Gasket!" she hissed to herself. "He's in the city," the girl said to the others, predominantly addressing Ratchet. "Follow me."

Of course she felt reasonably stupid after saying that, seeing as how going back on foot was just dumb, and how all of them could turn into vehicles. She was about to open her mouth and shamefully ask for a lift, but Hound apparently read her mind and transformed. The rest of the gang followed suit: Mirage lent his cab to Narthas while Prowl escorted Avrinod and Aragorn. The others were close behind.

Fifteen minutes later, and they were greeted at the main gate by the remains of Aragorn's guard, led by Elrohir.

"Carsaloth has taken horse to Osgiliath with Gedhorn and Elladan, sire," the remaining twin reported. "Alnarin and Mandir are with the machine on the fifth level, and the rest of your guard are present here."

"Autobot, if you don't mind," Jazz corrected softly.

Aragorn stuck his head out of Prowl's open passenger-side window in a strange display of non-kingliness. "Good," he confirmed, and Prowl opened the door to let him out. Avrinod stepped out as well. "They are taking the injured one back to their ship to be healed. When they return, we'll hold counsel to decide on our next course of action." The Elessar turned back to them and nodded, permitting them to continue up through the city. Hound broke into a fierce run, and the engines from the rest of the bots fired up in preparation for the long ride to the top.

Narthas, Lauren, Avrinod, and Aragorn stayed with the remaining twin and the rest of the guard at the gate, which thankfully, had managed to last the battle without damaging. She would have been exceedingly depressed to see something happen to the huge, old, ornate thing.

The company was relatively silent... at least, Lauren, Narthas, and Avrinod were. Aragorn was speaking with his men, but she was sure that all of them were listening to the roar of the Autobot's engines as they drove up the streets. She listened as they transformed to wade through the rubble, and then they were too far away to hear anymore. Well, at least for her. Narthas could still probably hear them.

The three of them had taken to sitting down on the edge of a now still fountain in the middle of the main square, idly listening to Aragorn breif his guards. Lauren sighed.

"I hope Nicole and Quinn are okay," she said out of nowhere.

Narthas, who'd been resting his chin on his hand, turned to look at her. "Why wouldn't they be?"

She shrugged. "I donno. Morithil just seems like the kind of person that would attract a lot of unwanted attention."

"If he has anything to do with this, we'll know."

"You mean he doesn't already?" she snapped.

The Elf rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. "The portals have nothing to do with any of this. In fact, they're probably going to save us."

"I certainly hope so."

Lauren turned and looked up at the city towering behind her, a gray silhouette against the black, looming shape of Mindolluin behind it. She caught movement here and there from up above, but she heard nothing. Then suddenly, some Autobot popped up at the edge.

"You've got visitors!" he shouted. She recognized the voice as belonging to Airlock.

The elf and girl leapt up.

"Could it really..."

"It just might be..."

The two of them proceeded to break out into their own sprint up the city. They slowed to a fast jog a few minutes later, and kept at that pace the rest of the way. Soon enough, they came across the Autobots as they carried poor Gasket down. She and the elf made sure to get out of their way.

Airlock was behind them, though wasn't following. A moment later, and she spotted Hound too. It only took her a few minutes for Lauren to recognize where they were... the Cyprus trees, the banner... the red door.

"It's the Underground!" she gasped and dashed over to the building. She was about to throw open the door, it appeared that someone on the inside had beat her to the punch.

And then... the world stopped dead. Time froze, her mind emptied, and she got a bad case of vertigo for a few seconds.

"A...lex?" she strained.

The girl was staring, slack-jawed, at a young man standing in front of her. He was an inch or so taller than Narthas, had short brown hair and green eyes. He appeared to be wearing some typically Star Wars-looking outfit, with a blaster at his side and a helmet on his head. Another painful eternity passed before she was scooped up in a fierce hug.

"Oh my god, Lauren, it's you!"

His mouth, one that she'd seen in many photos, found hers.

It was warm, it was blissful, it was oh so... wrong.

"Hey, hey, HEY!" Lauren broke away. "Wait a goddamn minute!" she said, and freed herself from his arms.

"Well," Narthas broke in. "That was certainly unexpected."

"Oh, come on, Narthas! She was the one I was looking for this whole damn time!"

Lauren knitted her brows. "What the fuck is going on here!" she demanded of the two men.

Narthas groaned. "You **never** said a name! Not **once**!" The elf pointed a finger accusingly at Alex, before turning back to the girl. "Lauren, this is Fen."

She turned back to him in what would have appeared to be raw anger. Alex looked hurt.

"**You're** the one that built the Underground?! **You're **the one that paid Narthas to smuggle in AV equipment from back home?! **You're** from the Star Wars universe! Why in the fucking hell did you come here!"

"I... I came looking for you. We were supposed to meet before you died!"

"Well, we **didn't**, and now the rules are _different_!" she shouted at him. "Look at this! _**Look at this!**_" Lauren was now gesturing to the whole of Minas Tirith. "**THIS** is what happens when people like you think this is all a game! That this is all for **you**." Lauren was stabbing him in the chest with her finger to accentuate her point.

She saw Hound and Airlock exchange shrugs and step back from the corner of her eye.

Alex, despite his initial shock at his old non-girlfriend's response to finally meeting him, got his bearings and stood tall again. "So this is the thanks I get." he said sternly. "For fighting with the Jedi Council about the loan of soldiers to save **your **planet. For going out of my way to establish a link between this otherwise defenseless world and Coruscant. This is the thanks I get for spending **YEARS** of my afterlife finding **YOU**. Why? So I could fulfill a promise."

Lauren scowled and folded her arms.

She heard mechanized steps coming from her right, and Hound bent near. "I don't think this is a good time, Lo..."

"Oh right. NOW you can finally get around to everything you promised me, now that it's convenient. Now that you've got all the time in the world." Lauren completely ignored him.

"Look. I was jumping through the hoops of what some people call _real life_. I'm sorry that I made a bunch of promises that I couldn't keep until now."

"That's not an excuse. If you couldn't keep a commitment, you shouldn't have made me think you could. There's nothing I hate more than being _**lied to**_."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," came an unfamiliar voice from behind Alex. Lauren tore her attention from him long enough to see that the speaker was a Jedi Knight, and she was once again reminded of where she was. She also felt a twinge of embarrassment. "But I feel a presence of certain power approaching from the north."

His Padawan, a young man of Lauren's age, perhaps a little younger, nodded. "As do I."

"The north?" Narthas asked rhetorically. "Why would..." he trailed off, before suddenly lighting up. "Morithil!"

"Then this individual is an ally?" asked another Jedi.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the elf sputtered out. "A powerful ally at that. Oh, thank the Valar... Come on, everyone, we should go back down."

Alex held up his hand. "Wait! Before we do that, you guys need to be armed properly."

"What are you talking about," Lauren snapped.

"If you'd listen to me without attacking, I would tell you."

"Alright you guys, that's enough," Hound warned. "If we're going to win this, then we need to learn teamwork. Just as you said yourself, Lauren."

The girl huffed before scowling at Alex. "Fine. I'll work with you, but I'm not going to like it."

Alex sighed. "I have a munitions closet downstairs. I've been stockpiling weapons for the past few years just in case something like this happened."

Lauren bit back a quip, knowing that she would definitely need a gun rather than a sword.

Alex motioned for them to follow, but the girl stood there with the 6 Jedi and 5 Republic soldiers. Narthas followed closely behind "Fen", and she was given a gentle push by a mechanical hand.

"It doesn't matter what he did in a past life," Hound said softly. "What matters is the survival of this world."

Lauren let her arms, which had been tightly folded across her chest in disapproval, fall to her sides. She stared at the dark doorway that Narthas had gone into. "I know, I know," she sighed. "But... he was such a jackass near the end there, and I don't think he even knows it."

The Jedi and foot soldiers had wandered away from the building, looking out over the Rammas on the edge of the tier.

Hound knelt down. "You two will have plenty of time to sort this out after we drive the Decepticons back into hiding, I promise."

"You sound like him, now."

"The difference between he and I is that I stay true to my word."

Lauren looked at him, mouth twisted into a fake display of stubbornness, and saw one of his optics cut out for a split second, and it took her a moment to realize that it was meant to mimic a wink.

"Thanks dude. You're a good friend."

"Aww!" Airlock butt in, a grin on his face.

"Oh shut up you," she said before trudging into the blackness that was the underground.


End file.
